Return of a Lady
by Bena Glinney
Summary: Albus and Severus must struggle with the arrival of an old acquaintance who threatens to disrupt the Order and the Plan...please review!
1. Default Chapter

Prologue:  
  
I am many things, Albus. I wear many titles, I am called many things. Shall I repeat them now, in a list, to ease in remembering? After all, it has been too long since we last spoke.  
  
I am a woman.  
  
I am a witch.  
  
I am strong.  
  
I am powerful.  
  
I am known for my temper.  
  
I am the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.  
  
I am the long-estranged wife of Severus Snape  
  
I am prey for Death Eaters who still reel at my escape from my husband, who had been ordered to kill me.  
  
I am the wise bumblebee, so long foretold in the prophecy.  
  
I am the long-lost granddaughter of Aberforth Dumbledore.  
  
I am the long-lost great neice of Albus Dumbledore.  
  
I am to be sacrificed for the Plan.  
  
I am frightened.  
  
I am scared.  
  
I am due to arrive at Hogwarts' doorstep in thirty seconds time.  
  
======================================================= Chapter 1:  
  
The echo from my knock resounds loudly on the door to the Great Hall. Slowly, the doors swing open. My breath catches in my throat. Severus has answered the door. We have not set eyes upon one another since our wedding night, the night I was forced to flee. He is standing there, clad only in a slightly worn gray nightshirt, and I wonder whether he happened to be passing by when my knock came, or if he is still such a light sleeper as to awaken and arise that quickly.  
  
The hall is empty, as is most of Hogwarts. The winter holidays were always a pleasant respite in the middle of the school year, I remember Albus saying to me once, a very long time ago, when we were still friends, and I would come to share a cup of hot chocolate with him.  
  
Severus stares uncomprehendingly at me, unwilling to believe what is right in front of his eyes. I cannot blame him. His wife of eighteen years exactly, for today is our wedding anniversary, whom he has not seen in 17 years and 354 days, has suddenly appeared on the doorstep to his school.  
  
Finally, he blinks and shakes his head. Convinced I am truly here, he breaks the heavy silence of the Great Hall. "I am certain the Headmaster is awaiting your arrival."  
  
So cold, Severus. Much colder than I expected. He had not known of my arrival, and yet now, when confronted with it, he forced down any possible emotion from my appearance and sorted out why I would be here. And so, not saying a word, I left him in the great hall, without so much as a nod in his direction to acknowledge I had heard him.  
  
I walked along the corridor towards Albus's griffen, not feeling much after having been confronted with a man whose mere presence in a room had once reduced me to girlish giggles and furtive glances. I am most likely the only person in the entire world to have that reaction to Severus Snape. He has never been one for inciting a pleasurable response from people. Yet to me he was wonderful.  
  
Do you remember the first time we met, Albus? It was he who introduced us. I had not, at Albus's request, attended Hogwarts, though my grandfather was devastated. Mother and Father could not have been more indifferent, both being squibs themselves. But now, Grandfather, for one of the few moments in his life, was as frightening as Albus. He swore emphatically that the heir of the Dumbledores should enter Hogwarts proud and head held high, proclaiming to the world her heritage.  
  
Albus denied him. He said it could not be. I would be tormented and mistrusted for my last name. And even if we kept the false surname I had held my entire life, students would figure it out--Albus was a far too doting uncle. And so, Bena Hummell, the wise bumblebee, the youngest of the Dumbledores, was sent off to America, away from her resentful parents, and manipulative uncle.  
  
To the Salem Institute I went. And I excelled. I was named top of class in every subject. Every subject except that which I knew Albus wanted me to do well at. Transfiguration. That I did on purpose. Though I was not told initially the reason for my exile, I assumed it had something to do with my great-uncle.  
  
And yet I am brilliant at it. I am a Dumbledore, am I not?  
  
But I have strayed. The first time Severus and I met was the afternoon he finished his proper schooling at Hogwarts. Albus and I were walking in Hogsmeade. I had one year left at Salem, but, as was tradition, I was spending the summer with him. A number of students, most of them seventh years, were touring the streets. It was one week until the Leavetaking Feast. NEWTS and OWL and final exams had just been sat and, thrilled at being done, the students were frolicking in the streets.  
  
There, a third of a way done the main street, stood a group of dark looking teenagers, all of them dressed in black robes with the Slytherin house crest. They all looked up at Albus with one motion. His hand clenched mine tightly. At the time I did not understand. Albus was their Headmaster, why should he be frightened of them? It took me several months reflection to understand.  
  
Albus knew what they were. What they were going to become. He had failed them. They had turned from him and were seeking the power and seduction of the Dark Arts. But there was one, in the middle of the group, whose eyes faltered for a moment when he returned their hard stare. A young man, with shoulder length black hair, which, even from that far distance appeared greasy, and an over-large Roman nose, shielded his hawk-like eyes to stare out at Albus.  
  
He noticed me as well. I saw his eyes look at me appraisingly. It was the first time in my life I remember feeling someone looking at me. I enjoyed it. I saw the attraction in his eyes. And I enjoyed it. I smiled shyly back, knowing even as my mouth curved upwards that smiling would do nothing to entice him.  
  
But it did. He cocked his head slightly to the side and gave an imperceptible nod. By this time, our amble down the dusty road had brought us even with them. We rounded on them, and they, one by one, dropped their staring contest with their headmaster. The dark haired boy, though, did not.  
  
Albus noticed it, and frowned. But, determined to keep up the well- cultivated persona of a softly dotty Headmaster, he instead introduced me. "Gentlemen, congratulations on finishing your exams. You have earned the rest. May I introduce a family friend, Bena Hummell."  
  
Again, denied my heritage. But I dutifully bowed my head. Not one of them murmered a response to you. Finally, the dark haired boy with the big nose stepped forward and held out his hand. My head jerked up suddenly and into his face. It was not a kind face. Even at seventeen there were harsh lines drawn upon it, scowl marks, frown lines. I smiled so that it covered my whole face, and I mentally berated myself for acting like a twelve year old, rather than the sophisticated lady I assumed myself to be.  
  
I held out my hand as well, but rather than grasp it in a handshake, he raised it slowly to his lips, brushing them softly against my sensitive skin. I gasped audibly, and the other boys snickered.  
  
I glanced to my uncle, his mouth one small line, unsure of how to proceed. The boy finally left my hand drop and lifted his gaze to my eyes. "Severus Snape." he said simply.  
  
I swallowed hard. "Pleasure to meet you." I choked out. The boys snickered again.  
  
Albus grabbed my elbow and we continued up the street, me rubbing my hand where it still burned from his light kiss, not daring a look back, for anger was evident on his face.  
  
Pulled out of my reverie, I find myself standing directly in front of the Headmaster's griffen. I whisper the password and the familiar staircase appears. I dutifully step on and am carried to Albus' hallway. There is light cutting across the worn flagstones from under the door.  
  
Knocking lightly, I hear Albus's tired voice say, "Enter, my child."  
  
=============================================================== A/N 1: Bena is Hebrew for 'wise'. Hummell is German for 'bumblebee'. Dumbledore is Old English for 'bumblebee.  
  
A/N 2: Ormana (Snape) is the feminine of the Nordic word for 'serpent'. Septimus is taken from Lucius Septimius Severus, an imperial contender, who fought with the Governor of Britain Albinus against the Roman Empire. (this is taken from the HP clue book by Galadriel Waters)  
  
A/N 3: I'm a linguist (insert 'nerd'), so things like names and word origins fascinate me. can laugh now. 


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:  
  
There Albus is, sitting behind his desk, and I am taken aback at how tired he looks. He never looks old. Albus has the spirits of thousands of eleven year-olds running through him. Yet there he sits, tired, defeated, and though I hate to think it, frail.  
  
"Uncle," I begin, but he raises his hand to quiet me.  
  
"Severus has followed you up the stairs."  
  
I turned my head to the door. Severus does not know of my relation to the Headmaster. Indeed, I do not think anyone does, save Minerva. And she only knows because Albus is unwilling to keep any secrets from her.  
  
The doorknob eases slowly in its circular movement, before the latch is pulled back and Severus, still in his nightshirt, enters. He has, I notice appreciatively, added a dressing gown, though I am shocked to find it is the same mousy brown one I gave him as a wedding present, a fumbling, inadequate gift from a nervous newlywed.  
  
I keep my eyes trained on the right cuff on the dressing gown. He is fingering his wand. I cannot blame him. If I were to be someone impersonating me, my access to the Headmaster's office could be a bad thing. The loyalty he is showing my uncle is impressive. As I watch, he carefully tucks the wand away, so that not one movement in his gown would show the outline of a wand.  
  
He is methodically watching the Headmaster. Albus stirs himself and forces a smile onto his wrinkled features. The fatigue and fraility are gone, though he still looks defeated. Severus, I can tell, notices all this. He risks a glance in my direction.  
  
I have only moved slightly to the left of the door, toward a portrait of a headmaster that is a favorite of mine-Phineus Nigellus. I know many would scoff at my choice, but I have always found the arrogance with which he treated my uncle, and the indifference he affected to be most appealing. The only other time I have ever seen Albus Dumbledore treated without respect was that day in Hogsmeade, where the arrogance of youth refused to bow down to a greater power than Lord Voldemort.  
  
"Headmaster, my apologies for intruding in such a late hour, however, I was concerned," he stresses the last word.  
  
"I appreciate it, Severus, but there was no need. Bena has come at my request. Please, both of you, have a seat." he motions to the two empty chairs in front of his desk. I immediately stride forward to plop down unceremoniously on the left. Severus takes the other.  
  
"Severus, as you well know, Remus Lupin was only a temporary appointment. I needed to stave off the Ministry until a more permanent, more widely accepted, instructor could be found. Bena has graciously agreed to fill the post. She will begin the Defense Against the Dark Arts when term commences . I understand," he paused slightly for effect, "that this situation is not ideal for the two of you. However, I wish to stress upon you both how important I find both of you to be, and I wish for the two of you to be civil with each other."  
  
I sighed heavily. Severus made no indication of his reaction to these words.  
  
"You think the Dark Lord will simply sit back and let Bena Hummell come to Hogwarts? He is not a forgetful man, Albus. He will remember quite clearly who she is. So will the others. Her life is on my head. I was charged with the task of murdering her. You think a twinkle of your damn eye and she will be safe? She was far safer exiled to North America than she could ever be here!" Severus spat venomously, and I realized how very twisted he had become.  
  
Ah.  
  
So, this is why Albus asked me to come. He knows perfectly well I could have stayed in the Wizarding States, working on international relations as I have done for the eighteen years. Instead he has pulled me out to act as a distraction for Severus Snape.  
  
That I mind, Albus.  
  
I remember reading in the Daily Prophet at the end of the spring term about Mr. Potter's return to grace and the grudging acceptance of the Ministry of the return of Voldemort. But what I remember most is in my monthly epistle from him; he said Harry had tried to cast an unforgivable.  
  
No, Albus, not your Harry Potter. He would never, he could never. And that was the point, wasn't it? He cast an insignificant, broken form of the cruciatus curse. Lucky boy. Not lucky that it didn't work. No, I think even good wizards should know how to cast the Unforgiveables, so they can recognize the wrist movements and mouthing of the curses. No, lucky boy, that he was at the Ministry of Magic. That there were Death Eaters and Aurors all around the building casting curses, so that when later, when Mafalda Hopkirk reviews the magic used, she will assume the nasty Death Eaters used the curse, and our Albus's young Mr. Potter will not receive any punishment.  
  
But Severus would not stand for it. No, I know him well enough. If he latched onto this information, he would shake it far after it's neck had broken and it was held limply in his jaws. And so, you have called for a distraction. Dangerous, Albus, very dangerous.  
  
I am wanted by the Dark Lord himself, as Severus pointed out. But you have put me in the safest place known to the Wizarding world....if one overlooks the three times Voldemort has been able to gain access to Harry Potter since he came to school.  
  
A distraction, hmm. Well, I assure you, I will do my best. Hips swaying, lips pouting, and eyelids fluttering.  
  
"Albus," I call softly, to break him out of the reverie we have all fallen out of.  
  
"My apologies, my dear," he say warmly, smiling at me. "Forgive an old man his thoughts. Severus, you are quite right, there is danger involved. However, Bena is here and she will be teaching. I leave it both your hands to figure out the rest."  
  
And so he stand, back to being impressive. Quickly, too quickly for a normal exit, he walks up the stairs to his private chambers, patting Fawkes on the way. The door closes behind him and Severus and I are left staring at one another with mouths open.  
  
The Plan, Albus. Albus has forgone the Plan.  
  
We are lost. 


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:  
  
Holding in a cry of despair, I turn to Severus. Though only moments before his mouth had been as open as mine, it has now clamped shut and tight since Albus swept from the room.  
  
I risk a look directly into his eyes. They are boring directly back. A dozen responses float quickly through my mind, on how to approach what Albus left, before quickly dropping to me knees in front of him, grabbing his hand, bringing it to my lips and kiss it softly, almost in exact replica of the gesture he afforded me many years ago.  
  
A sharp intake of breath and Severus's eyes flutter. Ah. The last time I saw his eyes flutter was during the consummation of our marriage, mere hours before my life became forfeit. Severus's proud head, flung back in ecstasy, mouth open in amazement, body still rocking. Beautiful.  
  
I train my eyes back on his, as they flutter one last time and open. "Bena" he begins sharply, "you do realize we are being manipulated into this. The old man wants something."  
  
Smiling because I know what it is the old man wants, "Of course, Severus, but why deny ourselves, if, in the end, it is inevitable?"  
  
"It endangers me, your being here."  
  
"My mere existence, whether I am here or elsewhere, endangers you." Whispering softly in his ear, I climb onto his lap, his hands rising in protest. But as I capture his mouth in mine, all forms of protest are calmed.  
  
A minute of soft whimpers and moans fill the Headmaster's office, before I collect myself and stand up. Severus is, by now, breathing raggedly. "There has been no one," he whispered, "all these long years; no one has touched me. I remained faithful to you, Bena."  
  
That is a confession I had not been expecting. Taking his hand I calmly, much more calmly than I would have expected, lead him from the office. We walk, still holding hands, down the corridor, across the Great Hall, and as we are descending the hallway to the dungeons, a voice cuts the silence.  
  
"Severus Snape, where have you been? You were to meet me an hour ago."  
  
Minerva McGonagall. Clad in her tartan dressing gown she is standing in the hallway in front of us, mouth set sternly, arms crossed. My hand is dropped as Severus's pace quickens as he approaches his colleague. Before he can begin an explanation, she has noticed me, her posture straightens. She pulls her dressing gown closer to her body.  
  
"The Headmaster said you would be arriving this evening. Did he forget to assign you rooms for the evening?"  
  
Oh, very good Minerva. I feel Severus tense beside me, having brought myself even with them both. "I'm afraid it must have slipped his mind, Minerva. I would have gone straight up to the rooms assigned the post, but I do rather think Remus Lupin would be quite surprised to find me crawling into his bed." I have purposely left myself open for attack, and the woman named after the Roman goddess of war and wisdom fairly leaps at the chance.  
  
"But I suppose crawling into the dungeons has elicited a different response?"  
  
Touché. The verbal barb was as well formed as I could have hoped for. Nodding my head as way of acknowledgment that she has hit home, I make a more visible display by taking a deliberate step away from Severus. Severus reacts, by swileving his head in my direction.  
  
"You are quote correct, Minerva. I have forgotten my place. I shall request room from Albus. Please excuse me." Inclining my head curtly, I turn to leave, my robes swirling around me.  
  
Severus stirs. "Wait."  
  
My face is thankfully away from them both as I break into a smile. I slowly cock my head at him.  
  
"There is no need to bother the Headmaster this evening" he is continuing, ignoring the furious glance thrown him by Minerva, "You may have my bed, I shall sleep on the sofa."  
  
How chivalrous. And completely at odds with what his body desires at the moment. Minerva's lips are again pursing into a thin line. Saying not a word, she exits swiftly from the hallway. Severus and I are again in our silence. Pleasing is not an adequate word for the emotion rolling from me. Severus has, as clearly as he does, begged. What power.  
  
Affecting nervousness he knows I will fall for, Severus rubs his hands together, whispering the password to his rooms. I follow. The room is surprising. I have for many years imagined these rooms in my dreams. This is not the stuff dreams are made of. Severus's descent into bitterness and seclusion has pervaded all aspects of his life, just as Albus has been writing in his letters to me all these many years.  
  
The monotony of the rough walls is broken only by the occasional painting or framed ancient parchment. It is interesting, I must add, that in these rooms of a, albeit reformed Death Eater, though one still advocating the necessity of pure-blood lines, the painting are all of muggle origin. Severus does indeed value his privacy.  
  
A fire is lit in the grate, due to the excellent foresight of the house elves. Severus raises his wand, resealing his door and calling forth a bottle of deep merlot and two wine glasses.  
  
Settling myself comfortably on the aforementioned sofa, my stocking feet are soon pulled underneath in a gesture of informality, my shoes having been deposited gracefully on the floor. Severus is pulling his dressing gown open as he crosses the room to me, settling just far enough away for decorum. My eyes are darting nervously around me.  
  
Now that the moment is close at hand, I am feeling my resolve slip slowly away. The desire to seduce Severus Snape is lessening. Severus makes the decision for me, for as he hands me my glass of wine, his fingers interlace with mine and his lips somehow find their way to the hollow of my neck.  
  
Oh.  
  
I pull away, still wanting the upper hand, still wanting to prolong this sweet torture. Murmuring as I nibble my around Severus's left ear, "Severus, we must find a way to catch the old man. He wishes you distracted, and me destroyed, all in the name of Harry Potter."  
  
His eyes widen as he hears me, but, still playing the game, he is moving his head so he is again gently biting, though his attention has this time been focused on my shoulder, "Then we shall provide a cautiously unified front to the old man. Both of us, of course, protesting publicly we had not thought to rekindle the relationship. To the Dark Lord, though, my dear, you ought to start declaring some loyalty."  
  
Forcing the revulsion that had strongly risen in me at that thought, I focus more to the appealing aspects of the newly formed plan, and I place myself firmly underneath him on the sofa, effectively pinned, as we slink further into ourselves. 


	4. Chapter 4

============================================================== Chapter 4:  
  
Our reacquainting is interrupted far too soon, by the arrival of a house elf. Upon closer inspection, I realize I recognize this one. The long pencil nose, accompanied by the sheepish grin belongs to the Malfoy's house elf. For a moment I am alarmed, before remembering a letter Albus had sent years ago, saying Harry Potter had tricked the ever-impressive Lucius Malfoy into giving his elf clothes.  
  
I have seen Lucius angry, and I cam but imagine the fury he felt that day, standing in the corridors of Hogwarts, tricked by the twelve year-old who had destroyed everything he loved, losing his house elf, only to have him end up at Hogwarts, under the employ the only one He ever feared. Irony is delicious.  
  
As Severus has not noticed the arrival of our guest, at least I am assuming this, as his attention is still quote fixed on my jaw line at the moment, I give a slight cough. Severus pays no attention, but Dobby, bless him, takes the initiative.  
  
"Dobby is sorry Professors, but the Professors are wanted in the Headmaster's office as soon as there are able, please."  
  
Severus leaps off me, and promptly falls on the floor. Unable to stifle the laugh in my throat I chuckle heartily. Dobby's eyes widen. I am sure he has hardly ever been privy to the sight of Severus looking so undignified, and being laughed at I am sure would be a first. Dobby, however, remembers where it is he first met the professor and so stands quietly bewildered as Severus stands and brushes himself off. He grabs fiercely at the dressing gown, which had fallen to the side of the sofa, and glares at me.  
  
I stop my laughter, and turn my attention to Dobby. "Did the Headmaster just send you, Dobby?"  
  
The house elf bobs his head excitedly, "Oh yes, Professor, Headmaster summoned Dobby to his room, miss, and asked for the two professors to join him. He said it is of great importance." He stresses the last word, just as, I am certain, Albus did when he told the elf to fetch us. I wonder how many minutes have passed since Minerva left his rooms, or if she is still there, scandalized at what is going on several floors below.  
  
Severus has once again gained control of himself and is in the process of tying his dressing gown closed. Dobby accurately interprets this gestures that the professors are up and coming and disappears with a crack.  
  
A hand is thrust down to me, and I gratefully accept it, the sofa being far more comfortable that I had anticipated. I artfully arrange my hair, so that it will look hastily done up, which is, of course, what is expected. Though I rather fancy Dobby was expected to find us in a further state of undress than we were. Too bad Minerva has no patience.  
  
We set off from the dungeons at a swift pace, though Severus pauses at some sound I had not detected, my ears not yet adjusted to the old castle. He stills my movement by a soft hand to my wrist. A rustle, just to our left.  
  
"Blaise Zabini...please step out." He commands coldly.  
  
A short child, black hair emerges from behind the balustrade. Guilty eyes glance upon the Slytherin Head of House. Severus folds him arms tightly across his chest. The younger Slytherin's head drops.  
  
"Report immediately to the dormitory and stay. It may be the holidays, but the same rules still apply, and it is far past any possible curfew you may have. Is that clear?"  
  
Nodding, the slender child slopes off down a side hall, Presumably to follow Severus's instructions. I am rather impressed at the show of authority, and tighten my hand around his upper arm, feeling his muscle. He smiles in the darkness at the obvious attempt of flirting and we continue.  
  
"Have you much problems with the students wandering the halls?" I question. It was not an issue at Salem. Far too many restless spirits and ghost wandered the halls to make it either enjoyable or profitable to tread foot outside our rooms at night.  
  
"It depends on the student. The majority of my Slytherins are very well behaved. I make it very clear in my beginning year speech that we already have enough going against us that rampant rule breaking will not be tolerated. Young Mr. Malfoy seems to be the only one thinking himself above the rules, but I cannot find myself faulting him too much for that. He has never known any other way."  
  
"As father, as son?" I respond. Knowing Lucius as I do, I can picture quite well the progeny that sprung forth from his loins. That, and Albus has afforded me quite some insight into the little dragon during his years at Hogwarts.  
  
Severus continues on, "Mr. Potter, on the other hand, and his fellow Gryffindors, seems quite content to continuously go against the regulations set up for their safety."  
  
I know better than get involved in this fight, I simply nod to show I have heard. Severus smiles in the darkness. "After you, my dear," he motions to the griffin. I whisper the password for the second time that night and we ascend to the office.  
  
And there he sits, resplendent in all his glory. And I see that this time Albus will be playing his hand differently. Before, he wanted sympathy, empathy. But with Minerva in the room, for I have spotted her off to the side, he will be playing the power card.  
  
Very well, uncle, I shall rise to the challenge. This shall be fun.  
  
Albus motions for us to take a seat. Severus does so immediately. I, however, opt to stand firmly behind his chair, letting Albus know straight away how things will be played. I am beginning to see why Severus continues to serve two masters. The challenge is intriguing. Playing both sides, being loyal to only you know what. Oh yes, this is going to be a fun few months. Possibly longer, if I can survive with all my skin intact. Though, playing to three masters may prove too much a challenge.  
  
Albus is the most formidable, but a few tears on my part and he will be taken care of. Severus is proving to be less a threat than I had thought. The extended celibacy has been a treat to discover. No, it is Lord Voldemort that currently intimidates me. Though, to be entirely honest, it is not him—madmen I can deal with, it is the sane ones, like Lucius Malfoy, who believe in it with all their hearts that frighten me more. If I am to pull off what Albus and Severus both want, I shall have to convince Malfoy.  
  
Fortunately, I am a Dumbledore.  
  
My defenses reinforced with this thought, I turn my head to face Albus in his brilliance as we begin our second chat of the evening. 


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5:  
  
"Severus, Bena thank you for coming so quickly. I understand it is quite late, and we all would prefer to be in our beds, sleeping. However, Minerva has brought it my attention that I very rudely tread upon Severus's hospitality as to assume he would be willing to put you up for the night. My apologies Severus," and he bow his head to Severus.  
  
Severus remains indifferent. Albus's head swivels as Minerva strides forward. "I would be more than willing to offer the guest room in my quarters, Professor Hummell."  
  
Severus coughs lightly. I smile dazzlingly at the woman, declining her offer, "Though it is much appreciated, Minerva, I'm afraid Severus and I have been charged by the Headmaster to get along, despite obvious strains to our relationship. And I rather feel that the sooner we start, the sooner we shall succeed. At the moment, that fact that we are sitting calmly in the same room is more than I would have hoped. We have much catching up to do, and not much time before term commences. We must provide a unified face to the students when they return, must we not?"  
  
"I am sure your reacquainting could wait until morning." She replies coldly, not willing to give me an inch of approval.  
  
Albus can feel this going nowhere. Sighing loudly, he rubs his temples. "Minerva, there is no harm. They are husband and wife after all. My apologies for disturbing you all so late in the night. Now, please, go and get some rest.  
  
"Bena, my dear, in the morning, Remus can begin showing what he has been teaching so far the year, and you shall be able to move in to your quarters. No, Minerva, it really is quite late, please, let us all get some rest." Albus silences her protests and stands, obviously dismissing us. I wonder how many more late night meetings we shall have to attend over the next few weeks, as Severus and I are scolded for our behavior. But as he has said, we are husband and wife. Interesting dilemma.  
  
It is encouraging to see the protectiveness apparent from Minerva. Someone cares for Severus besides as a puppet for the plan. It is indeed nice to know he has raised some sort of feeling in at least one of his colleagues.  
  
We all three take our leave from Albus. Minerva leads the way from his office, Severus following, head down. I take it, from his reaction to her, that Minerva McGonagall provides a sort of motherly figure to him. He is walking as a child who has knowingly gone against him mother's wishes.  
  
I am unwilling to let this continue. I quicken my pace, so that I pass Severus and come to walk even with Minerva. Talking in a low voice but so that Severus may still overhear, "Minerva, I do not mean to flounce in here, immediately changing the rules and throwing the old ways to the wind. I have merely encountered a change in conscience and I feel perhaps certain aspects of my behavior ought to be modified. Most especially, taking care that certain secrets do not find their way out and the easiest way to do that is for Severus and I put aside our rather substantial reasons for quarreling and act as adults"  
  
I am appealing to her sense of propriety, and I seem to have made an impression. Her mouth twitches and turns on us. "Enjoy the few days of quiet left. Soon enough, the children will be back and the battle will be on." She continues up the stairs, leaving Severus and I in the great hall watching her.  
  
"What battle?" Severus intones.  
  
I gulp, knowing full well I am treading on dangerous ground. "The final battle Severus; the day when Harry Potter takes on Lord Voldemort." Keeping me voice as neutral as possible. My head is already beginning to fill with visions of myself bowing to the Dark Lord, kissing his hems, lying about my loyalty, forced to do awful things...his voice all the while hissing in his ears.  
  
I come back to myself quickly, and stifle the urge to vomit. Severus is staring at me, a look of mock concern passing over his features. We both feel odd at where to start again, now that we have been twice called out from our passionate embraces. Do either of us wish to take the initiative the third time?  
  
I find that I do, if only to dispel the feeling of cold, dread and despair that has washed over me since leaving the headmaster's office. I start off briskly towards his rooms again, wishing the dungeons could be warmer. I am chilled through. Suddenly the day's events take their full toll on me and I find myself exhausted.  
  
Striding purposefully up to his door, I speak the password clearly and enter. He follows immediately and quickly reseals the doors. I round on him, halfway through the room. He squares up to me as well, both of us measuring our opponent.  
  
At the same moment we walk forward, capturing each other in our arms, lips roaming, hands groping, breaths being drawn sharply. I pull away, still struggling with myself whether this is the right thing to do. Nodding to more to myself than anything else, I walk into his bedroom. Before he can follow, I shut the door tightly, and seal it with my wand.  
  
I hear him attempt to turn the knob, as I my back slinks down the door, ending with me hunched on the floor, stifling sobs at the sheer frustration I am feeling. He makes an annoyed sound and stalks off, presumably to the sofa. I cannot find the strength to raise myself off the floor, and continue to sob in a pile on the floorboards.  
  
I roll away from the door, crawling slowly to the bed, covered with a black duvet, lined delicately with a dark green ribbon. Slytherin to the end, I note dryly. I carefully heave myself onto the bed, still crying. This is the first time in months I have allowed myself the indulgence.  
  
I faintly register the sound of the lock clicking, and the doorknob turning. Before long, a long, thin body has entwined itself with mine. I make no protest, but curl myself into the strong arms and nestle my head into the crook of his shoulder, feeling at once safe and warm.  
  
No words are spoken as we draw nearer each other, and I feel myself gently falling into the folds of sleep. I only hope Severus can forgive me my momentary lapse in our scheme. I can always blame it on the time difference in the morning, which is already too close. 


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6:  
  
The morning does indeed come too quickly. I find myself alone in the too- large bed. Hearing Severus moving in the bathroom, I take the moments alone to examine this room. If plans go forward as expected, it will soon be shared with me.  
  
This room, as the others, is sparsely decorated. The bed stands in the middle of the room covered with the black duvet and two functional pillows. There is a nightstand on the left side of the bed, near the closet. On the stand is a stand for vials, the five vials glittering beautifully in the morning light. Even here in the dungeons Severus has managed to allow some sunlight, undoubtedly to give him reason to get up after a night of heavy drinking. The vials are, from left to right, a Sleeping Draught, a Pain Reducing Tonic, a Blood Replenishing potion, Skele-grow, and a Lust Potion. The last one surprises me, as Severus has admitted his abstinence...it appears Severus is not as honest as I had thought. I continue my perusal of the room.  
  
There is no other furniture. There is, however, a photograph on the wall. It is of the two of us, on our wedding day. I remember the photograph being snapped. The photographer had been hired by Septimus, Severus's father, as a way to record the occasion. Overall, the wedding was small, mostly Snape family friends. I believe Albus was the only person I liked that was there. He performed the marriage. He insisted.  
  
Septimus and Ormana Snape of course wanted a fully binding wizarding wedding for their son. It had been a very cold day as the sun broke over the hill at the Manor. Oh not Snape Manor, no, the Snapes had long lost their family fortune, but the Malfoys, having taken a great interest in the tall, dark youth, had graciously offered to host the wedding at their home.  
  
I had met Lucius Malfoy one year before my wedding. Severus and I had been out in Diagon Alley, shopping for Christmas presents. Severus had never questioned my odd appearances at Hogwarts for holidays and holidays only. So, there we were, walking, not hand in hand, as we were still nervous acquaintances, not yet more than an awkward first kiss having passed between us.  
  
Severus was now three years out of Hogwarts, and I had graduated two years previously, though I stayed in the States, ostensibly to continue my higher education. The reason I stayed there, was, as I had told him, because a wealthy benefactor had bequeathed an ample sum of money to be at my disposal were I to remain across the ocean from my motherland.  
  
Of course, in reality, there was no such bequeathment; my benefactor still being very much alive, but the charade fit in nicely with my uncle's plan. We had stopped at Flourish and Blotts, for I had an inkling I may be able to find a book to fit my parent's fancy when a heard, quite clearly, a drawling voice address my companion.  
  
"Severus, good to see you. Nice to know you're getting some sunlight."  
  
I turned cautiously around, having learned early in life that voices that drawl are rarely attached to pleasant individuals. It seems I have still to be disproven in that theory. A tallish young man, platinum hair spilling over his shoulders, disdain evident in his eyes, was smiling falsely at Severus.  
  
As I turned around further, he noticed me, eyes raking me up and down, much in the same way Severus had done on our first encounter. However, this time I felt no burn of anticipation, rather, I felt revulsion, and I pulled my robes around me tightly, attempting to ward off this unwanted attention.  
  
Severus seemingly took all this in the blink of an eye, for he moved between Lucius and me protectively. "Yes, Lucius, buying something for Mother and Father; the holidays and all." He drawled directly back.  
  
Lucius. I had heard that name before, I recalled. Both from Severus, and my uncle. Both issuing warnings to steer clear of him at all costs. Albus for reasons of safety. Severus, I suppose for the same reasons, though from a different motivation. Whereas Albus feared for my safety as a Dumbledore and a wizard of the Light, Severus feared for my safety as a woman. Nearly quailing under the proud gaze, I appreciated Severus's concern.  
  
A well-manicured hand is proffered, and I take it, noticing at once the handshake to be limp, very much that of the cultured gentleman. Our hands remained in contact for a few seconds more, before I sharply withdraw it.  
  
"Lucius Malfoy, meet Bena Hummell." Severus introduces us. I flit my eyes in his direction, but he had closed his face off from emotion. That raises my heckles far faster than any reaction I had received from Lucius.  
  
"Ah, yes, Headmaster Dumbledore's little pet. I remember you telling me of her. Back from the Wizarding States then, are you? A nice little lull in activity, is it?"  
  
"Yes," I reply carefully, not letting my voice catch or falter, "The Headmaster is great friends with my grandfather, and has taken it upon himself to ensure I always have pleasant holidays, my parents never being much for entertaining me."  
  
This is more of an explanation of my visits than Severus has ever received, and he raises his eyebrows slightly at me. I incline my head minutely, hoping he will take this as a sign we will discuss it later.  
  
Lucius is now contemplating me with an air of studied boredom. I have not held his interest long at all. I am extremely grateful for this. "Good luck with your shopping then. I shall leave you to it." And he turns and swishes out of the shop.  
  
I exhale loudly, and Severus turns to face me. "What a vile wizard!" I exclaim heartily. Severus, rather than agree to me, instead thrusts me to the wall of the bookshop, his hands tightly on both my upper arms, "Listen well, Bena. The Malfoys are influential wizards. You would do well to give them the respect they deserve. Lucius has been so kind as to take an interest in me, and his father has agreed to sponsor me in my private studies. I would advise" and he stresses the word so that spittle flies out the corner of his mouth, "that you learn your place when in their presence. A friend of the great Albus Dumbledore does not count for much in many circles."  
  
With this, he steps back, his hand rising to his face to wipe away the spit that has clung to it. My chest heaving, I look at him, and for the first of many times, I am frightened. I am also angry, for the sarcastic tone in which he derided my uncle. Denied though I am of my name, I will still fight for all the honor and respect due it, and I need no convincing that the Dumbledore name should be along the most lauded in the Wizarding world, far different of my opinion of the name Malfoy.  
  
I look at Severus squarely, and walk out of the bookshop. I do not stop as he calls after me, until I have reached the safety and quiet of Gringott's. Severus does not follow me, and I watch through the doors as he throws up his arms in frustration and stalks off.  
  
The present-day Severus is now leaning in the doorframe, apparently wearing only his dressing gown. My revulsion of last night has not fully worn off, though, and I am loath to arrive late to the breakfast table. Raising my eyes warily to his, I see the predation present. Shaking my head slightly, I stand up and walk resolutely past him, clicking the bathroom door shut behind me.  
  
I will be facing a breakfast table full of inquisitive professors fully armed this morning, not from under the myopic gaze of a freshly bedded woman. 


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7:  
  
I emerge from the bathroom, refreshed, though wearing the same robes as the night before. As only Severus, Albus and Minerva have seen me in them though, I feel I shall be fine.  
  
Severus has dressed by this time as well, covered in far too many buttons and unrelenting black. He does not look in my direction as I walk into the main room, the sofa still sitting patiently in front of the fire.  
  
He walks to the door, opening it like a gentlemen, and allows me first passage through the door. The walk to the great hall is silent, though companionable. Just as we are about enter for breakfast, Severus turns to me.  
  
"I am not offended by the lack of physical interest, Bena, however I wonder if r persona allows for all that you have agreed to." His sneer is firmly in place.  
  
"What have I agreed to, Severus?" I query, for in all honesty, I am beginning to wonder if all the silent looks and quiet nods have not gotten me in further than I can handle. I open my eyes wide at him, hoping he will take me seriously.  
  
He does. "You have, if I am not mistaken, agreed to help Albus Dumbledore keep me out of the way of Mr. Potter; you have also agreed to help me show the old man he simply cannot change horses midstream. He explained to me, and the others in the Order, that the plan is simple. His behavior of late has been far from simple, and has gone against the plan.  
  
"You have also agreed that in order to help me, you will escape immediate attacks from the Death Eaters by appearing to have switched r thinking, and are perhaps becoming sympathetic to the Dark Lord. Have I missed anything?"  
  
I swallow, frightened that he read me so well, after eighteen years absence. "Yes, Severus, that it all."  
  
"Good." And he flings wide the doors, interrupting everyone from their breakfast. I follow obediently afterwards, shuffling my steps.  
  
Albus is not yet there, though is appears most of the other professors are. I take a seat between Remus Lupin and Sybil Trelawny. Severus positions himself between his fellow heads of house, Flitwick and Sprout.  
  
"Hello," I nod to my companions, who are both looking at me peculiarly. Lupin breaks the ice first.  
  
"You must be Bena Hummell. Albus said you would be here this morning. I trust Severus was pleasant company for you this morning." His pleasant warm smile belies no hint of subterfuge, so I take him at face value; that I am actually being asked about my morning.  
  
Not being entirely certain of how hidden Severus and I are to keep ourselves, I nodded in agreement, "Yes indeed. And you are?"  
  
"Oh, my apologies," he says, rubbing his hands gently on his trousers before offering his hand to me, "Remus Lupin. You'll be relieving me."  
  
His golden eyes die for a moment, and I am struck with an unusual stab of guilt. I have taken away the one job this man could hold. Thrusting it down, I smile warmly back and take his hand. At this, Sybil Trelawny breaks into the conversation.  
  
"You are married, Professor Hummel?" she asks, eyeing my ring, which I have worn dutifully the entire time. Remus looks startled. Sucking up my courage, I look her square on, catching Minerva's eye in the process.  
  
"Yes, I am indeed married," I answer, and sensing her next question, "to Professor Snape, actually." Severus whips his head around, glaring. It was not in his mind to reveal our connection so soon. I, however, have many cards to play. If I am to ever empty my hand, I must start playing a little more recklessly.  
  
Remus sputters on his orange juice. Trelawny on her eggs, bug eyes popping out her head. Sprout and Flitwick stop their conversation with Severus to look at us, where I am cautiously patting Remus on the back to stop his choking. The other professors are gaping as well. Then, in an instant, they all go from staring at me, to looking resolutely at Severus.  
  
He mouth is open to answer when Albus walks in.  
  
Good timing, uncle.  
  
Albus walks in, resplendent in the morning, all signs of fatigue and forlorn vanished. I raise my eyes to his and in an instant I know he understand why all of his staff is quiet. Without saying a word, he takes his place at the head of the table, Severus two seats away on his left, me two to his right.  
  
Remus has the courage to break the ice. A Gryffindor, if I remember correctly from Severus's rantings. However, it is not Albus he addresses, but me, "My pardons, Bena, I am afraid all of us here are at a bit of a loss. I rather you thought said your husband was Severus."  
  
As though letting him in on the joke, I smile heartily, "Oh, you heard me quite correctly. Severus and I have been married these past eighteen years." Black eyes from across the table narrow and bore into mine coldly.  
  
This comment again sets the table to silence. I raise my eyes to Albus's again, where they are twinkling merrily. For all that Albus may be frightened of an alliance between Severus and myself, the looks on his colleagues faces have momentarily superceded those fears. They are agog.  
  
Severus is squirming. Never in his life, I am sure, has his private life been laid so public. Finally, Albus decides to end this. Albus raises his hands and gathers everyone's attention, "It is my hope that everyone will be open and accommodating to our new professor, who has much to learn about Hogwarts and its students in the following two weeks. Now, eat up." He gestures and goes about gathering himself some breakfast.  
  
Slowly, the other professors follow suit. I decide to generously allow Severus a chance to explain himself, as I finish quickly and excuse myself. As I am leaving, I feel Remus's hand brush mine. I turn to face him, and he whispers, "This afternoon, my, I mean, r, office? I can go over where I'm at and what 'll be doing, now that 're here."  
  
The casual touch could mean nothing. It could be innocent. But I know better. Damn. He remembers. The plot thickens. I avoid both Albus's and Severus's eyes, as I leave the hall, my hand burning from the werewolf's touch. 


	8. Chapter 8

=============================================================== Chapter 8:  
  
I walk resolutely to the dungeons, anxious to escape the cheerfulness of the morning that pervades the rest of the castle. Several portraits, awake now, call their greetings to me, remembering my visits from a lifetime ago.  
  
I quickly find myself at the entrance to Severus's rooms. However, before I can mutter the password, a portrait to my left calls out, in an unmistakable drawl, "How is it that the long-lost neice of Albus Dumbledore suddenly decides it's time to come home?"  
  
"Phineas," I acknowledge with a nod, "good to see you don't feel it above you to recognize me in the morning. I thought the snuff last night a tad rude. Fortunately, I had other things on my mind."  
  
He ignores the barb, as he always does. "Back at Hogwarts, eh? Willing to forgive Dumbledore? Willing to take on Severus? I am surprised. I thought you had turned tail and run away for good."  
  
I will not rise to his baiting, "No Phineas, you should know by now I have the strength of character to rise to occasion. Severus is not great challenge," he snorts in agreement with this, "and Albus is proving to be less of a problem than expected."  
  
"So you do mean to go through with in, then?" I eye him curiously, wondering how much he knows.  
  
He seems to sense this, for he continues on, "I am referring to your plan of restoring the family Snape to power, even if it means crumbling the house of Dumbledore in the process. Very risky, Hummel, especially as you have taken on so many other quests already."  
  
I am shaken. I had not meant for anyone to know that was my ultimate goal. But then I forget Phineas was my confidant many years ago, before I fled for the States. He would know quite well how much it burns me still that I am denied my name.  
  
I shake my head minutely, and smile widely at him. "Phineas, I think you've forgotten that eighteen years have passed since you and I last spoke. My plans have changed, I have grown up."  
  
He looks skeptical. "Don't worry, I won't tell the Headmaster. Or Severus either. I don't think he'd much relish the idea of knowing what you're up to. You've taken quite a bit to chew on, haven't you, my dear? Any idea of how you're going to declare allegiance to the Dark Lord? He's rather particular about his followers. Makes them do awful things to muggles, and each other, I know; I've seen Severus come back from meetings, bloodied and broken. I don't know if you've got exactly the correct disposition."  
  
"There is much about me you don't know, Phineas. You may be surprised. Now, please excuse me." Turning on my heel, I fling wide the door to Severus's rooms and storm into the bedroom to walk off whirling thoughts in my head.  
  
I do indeed have plans of restoring the name Snape to its earlier granduear, at least in some small way. By this time in history, Severus is the only remaining Snape alive. His brother, Gaius, was killed by Aurors in a raid many years ago; his father died in the same raid. His mother whittled away to nothing three years later. Both Septimus and Ormana had been only children, and there were no other relatives.  
  
Ormana, Septimus, and Gaius were all alive when we were married; the raids took place a year later. I heard about their demise through letters from my uncle. Ormana had been a great beauty in her day, though her beauty was cold and disdainful. It was hard to say whether Severus took after his father or mother more for looks. The nose was certainly the Snape nose, but his hair, blank and lanky, was his mother's, as was his pale complexion. The sneer was, I believed, learned, for I have seen portraits, and only the last few generations starting wearing it regularly.  
  
The Snapes were, as many pure-blood mania driven families were, very strict. Their two boys could deliver more curses, hexes, and jinxes by the time they entered Hogwarts than most beginning year Aurors. Septimus had that in common with Titus, Lucius Malfoy's father.  
  
Before Hogwarts, Lucius and Severus were not friends, Lucius being closer in age to Gaius, who was three years older than him. Once the younger Snape entered, the Malfoy family in general started to take an interest in him, as Gaius becoming overly interested in the eventual downfall of many Snape men--women, drink, and general debauchery.  
  
Severus's determination had been set from the beginning. He and I have talked of motivation in great detail. His motivation was to finally earn his father's praise, but also to overcome his father's knowledge, so that he could escape. He studied potions so dilligently because his older brother had not excelled at it, and this could be his one area of excellence.  
  
During my retelling of Snape family history, I have come to rest in front of the photograph from our wedding day. I gently take it off the wall. It, unlike the other hangings in his rooms, is not covered in dust, but looks well taken care of.  
  
In it, we are wearing our wedding robes, brilliant purple, fit for a king and queen; a gift from the Malfoys. In my hair is a wreath of daisies and small bells that tinkled everywhere I turned my head. Our eyes are shining. In the photograph, we are facing each other, and as I watch, Severus brings my hand to his lips, before tipping my face to his in a kiss. Our picture-selves turn to me and begin waving. Severus looks happy. I look radiant.  
  
A noise at the door startles me. Severus is framed there again. I hastily put the photograph back on the wall, wiping the tears that had begun to form from the edge of my eyes, though not quickly enough. Severus notices and crosses the room to me in three strides.  
  
Looking wildly into my eyes, he searches for something. Apparently finding it, he crushes his mouth upon mine. I return in kind. Hands begin to roam as electricity flares between us. I have no intention of stopping this time. I sense his hesitation, and take the moment to push him on his back on the bed. His eyes widen, sensing I am in earnest, and we move to complete our reaquainting for the fifth and final time since my arrival. Perhaps returning to Hogwarts is not so odious a task as I had first thought it, as I slink down under him, a soft moan escaping my lips. 


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9:  
  
A few hours later I languidly rise from the bed, Severus still resting beside me. I lightly brush my lips to his forehead and prepare myself for a interesting reunion with the werewolf.  
  
Knocking tentatively, I hear Remus answer. I walk in slowly, carefully assessing my surroundings. The room is comfortable. Several dark creatures, including a grind low in a cage, are situated around the room. I notice behind his desk is a large sign stating the myths that abound about werewolves. The man himself is seated at the desk, papers covering it.  
  
He has capped his quill and is smiling pleasantly at me, waiting for me to speak. I feign uneasiness and move my hands around each other, biting on the edge of my lip. "At what age level do you start the grind low?" I begin.  
  
His smile widens and he leans back in his chair. "No, Bena, we will not do this. I had quite forgotten until this morning why the name Bena Hummel sounded familiar. But now I do remember. Have you told your husband?"  
  
"There is nothing to tell." I reply coldly.  
  
"No? You don't think Severus would mind his wife sleeping with a werewolf? Because I do." his voice, though soft, contains a menacing edge to it. I tread forward carefully.  
  
"It has been eighteen years since Severus and I last saw one another. I do not expect perfection from him, and I sincerely doubt he expects it from me." I say, lying directly. From my mornings exertions, I know as truth that Severus was faithful. The lust potion on his nightstand turned out to be an obscure potion for muscle relaxation, one he finds useful after he has been tortured.  
  
Remus relaxes slightly, "No, I suppose not. Still, knowing how highly he regards me," he says sarcastically, "I do not think it would be in your best interest for this to become well-known."  
  
"Are you threatening me, Remus?" His smile belies the malice in his eyes. I continue on, determined to squash this idea, "What you and I shared was not love, Remus. It was lust. You were a broken man. You had just lost all that was dear to you. The Potters were dead, Peter was dead, and Sirius was a murderer. You needed consoling; you needed physical comfort. And that is what I provided. Nothing more."  
  
I harshly ignore the images of passion and heat flaring up in my mind's eye. The months with Remus were among the most volatile in my life, and I have little desire to relive them. There were not strictly passion and lust I know. There were times of exquisite contentment; of quiet and sharing and, though I am loath to admit it, love.  
  
"And you, dear Bena? What was it that I provided for you? You were not broken."  
  
"Oh no? Having only months before been run out of England with Death Eaters on my trail? Severus had been ordered to murder me, and he meant to go through with it. You're right, Remus, I was right as rain." My voice contains all the emotion that has welled up in my throat. This is not how I wanted this to go. I struggle to regain control as we sit in silence for awhile.  
  
Remus clears his throat. "I am sorry, Bena. Of course you were not much better off than me. My apologies. If, if you would like, we could go over my lesson plans." his feeble apology only angers me further, and I shake me head. No, I will dive in with the plan.  
  
"Did Black leave a will?"  
  
Remus starts, as though he has been slapped. I make no gesture to explain my non sequiter, simply allowing the question to hang there.  
  
Finally, Remus clears his throat. "What did you ask?"  
  
"Sirius Black, Remus. Did he leave a will?" Ruthlessly I tread on, ignoring the pain in his voice.  
  
"No. No, he didn't. And even if he had--he hasn't been officially declared dead by the Ministry. Shacklebolt is still in charge of the search for him. Dumbledore didn't want the Ministry knowing he was there that night."  
  
He has told me all this, assuming I am a member of the Order. For now, I am too close my target to care about baiting him that I might not be entirely trustworthy. "So there is no will."  
  
He looks at me oddly. "No, but neither has he been declared dead."  
  
"Thank you, Remus. I look forward to another chat with you again soon." and I sweep magnificently out of his office, leaving him very confused, as was my mission.  
  
I stride immediately back to the dungeons. By this time in the afternoon, Severus has roused himself. It is almost endearing the way he is shuffling around his rooms. He has, I noticed, cleared off two shelves from the far corner, and two of the paintings have come down from the walls. On the table in front of the sofa, there is a tea service for two.  
  
Perhaps having a doting husband could be good for me. I also notice my bags have been sent down by the house elves. It is then I narrow my eyes more closely at Severus. He has moved to the far corner. He is putting my books on the previously emptied shelves. I feel a deep shift within me. It has begun. I am becoming a wife.  
  
I have books on a shelf, I will soon have paintings on the walls. My clothes will hang beside his, and we shall awaken in each other's arms. Frightening.  
  
"Severus," I drawl to gain his attention, "am I correct in assuming Lucius named you godfather to his son?"  
  
He straightens and looks at me sharply. "Yes," he begins slowly, wondering why I am inquiring. "yes, Lucius and Narcissa named me guardian to Draco. Why?"  
  
"I was just up talking to Remus. Black left no will."  
  
Severus narrows his eyes. "So?"  
  
The Blacks, as well as other pure-blood wizarding families, have an inheritance law that states that, should a family find itself without a direct heir, the property and all monies attached shall go to the nearest blood kin. Sirius is dead. Regulus is dead. Next in line would be Bellatrix, but she has forfeited because she was in Azkaban. Andromeda Black has been disowned, which leaves..."  
  
"Narcissa." Severus breathes. I believe he is beginning to take hold of my idea. "And what passes to Narcissa passes to Draco. And, as Lucius is currently, unavailable for comment, I am acting as the boys male guardian."  
  
I smile slowly. He raises his eyes to me. "The ministry does not consider Black dead."  
  
"Then we shall have to persuade them." I say slyly. He rakes me over with his eyes, trying to discern if I am for real. I take the opportunity to sit on the sofa, positioning myself so he has a clear view down the top of my open robes. It works. He swallows and joins me on the sofa.  
  
"How do you propose we do that?"  
  
"Ah, ah, ah, Severus. If I tell you, where would the fun be? Let me work on this for a few days. You simply keep working on potions, and putting my things away. I need to speak with Minerva."  
  
I kiss him gently on the lips, again hearing the spark intake of breath, before bringing a tea cup to my lips. Looking over the rim at him, I bat my eyes coquettishly. He laughs and I join him.  
  
Oh yes, this is going to fun. Poor Albus. I should have indeed been left in exile across the ocean. 


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10  
  
The next few days pass by quickly and uneventfully, as I move my plan firmly ahead. Severus continues to throw me odd looks, as does Albus, neither of them entirely trusting me. At meals taken in the Great Hall, I remain at the side of my werewolf, as Albus has not yet banished him back to Grimmauld Place.  
  
Remus and I have resumed our friendship, much to Severus's consternation. Though it has, from my end, stayed entirely platonic this go around, Remus, I fear, is falling into step with old emotions. I am counting on that a little. It will buy me some insurance when I am to meet the Order of the Phoenix outright--a meeting Albus says is to take place this evening.  
  
With Severus, Albus and Remus solidly on my side, and Minerva softening to me, I may be able to convince the rest of them to accept me. The Dark Lord has been quiet during my reacclimation to England; Severus has not been called. That is beginning to worry him.  
  
I have planned a trip to Diagon Alley for the afternoon. Severus went to Malfoy Manor yester eve to talk to Narcissa about Draco's inheritance. He has not yet told me how it went. He, in fact, returned quite late, too late too talk. I occasionally look his direction at breakfast, but he gives me no indication of how things are progressing, merely to say Narcissa expressed interest in seeing me. Hence the wholly unnecessary trip to Diagon Alley.  
  
I am currently dressing in our quarters. The mirror is thankfully quiet as I pile my hair on top of my head. I have never seen the point of being proficient in the 'womanly arts' of doing myself up. I am dressed carefully in quiet gray robes over a simple black dress, both made of heavy fabric. As I continue to struggle with pins and muttered spells, neither having an effect on my rat's nest of hair, I feel hands force mine out of the way.  
  
Severus's face has appeared in the mirror, standing behind me. With deliberate movements his strong hands, in four gestures, have my hair staying in place, elaborately and artfully, arranged on top of my head. I widen my eyes in amazement.  
  
Noticing my expression he chuckles, "One of the more obscure talents I have learned during my years as head of Slytherin is that comforting homesickness in the first years girls is to play with their hair. That information, incidentally, is never to leave these rooms."  
  
My expression turns to a smile. "I would never have pegged you for the comforting type, Severus."  
  
"There are things we all learn about ourselves when forced into the situation. It is preferable to me, and my Slytherins, if the first years do not cower in fright and make themselves sick from longing for home. If the older students cannot comfort them, they know I may be called upon. I have always stressed the importance of not showing weakness outside our own house, as we will not receive any sympathy. But, we must band together and be strong, undivided. To that end, I find myself occasionally playing mother and nursemaid. Would it amuse you to find I regularly have lovesick teenagers coming to me for advice on how to woo and court one another?" Severus has delivered these revelations with his eyes downcast, his fingers focused on a spot of fraying frabric on his left cuff.  
  
"Kindly do not snort, Bena, it is most unbecoming." he says of my response.  
  
I turn to him, snaking my arms around his back, pulling him closer. I breathe deeply, inhaling his scent. He does not wear a cologne, or eau de toilette as many men; he smells of potions. Today that smell includes the musty smell of earth, from the roots he has been cutting, and something else, which I think is cinnamon. He must be brewing the Wolfsbane for Remus.  
  
Pulling myself away, I am startled by the look in his eyes. I have seen it sporadically over the past five days since my arrival, and I have yet to decipher it. I have asked him, but he refuses to enlighten me.  
  
"I must be on my way." I say, extricating myself fully from his embrace. He steps back and glances me over.  
  
"You need some silver," he says critically, "Narcissa will not be seen with just anyone, regardless of who you may be married to. Come."  
  
I follow him to the bedroom, where, from the closet, he pulls a box of cherry, inlaid with the Snape family crest. Opening it, he extracts a large silver broach.  
  
"This was to be given to you on our....wedding day," he falters, his voice clipping the words, "but, I never had the chance. It, it has been in our family for hundreds of years, always passing down during weddings to the next generation. My mother had given it to me, to give to you. I had it in my hand when I....when I was called."  
  
My face arranges itself in an expression of pain. Though we have spent much of the past five days in each other's presence, we neither of us have had the strength to speak of the event that tore us apart. Feeling that Narcissa can wait, I ask the first of several things that has been on my mind.  
  
"Severus, why was Minerva looking for you the night I arrived."  
  
A moment's silence, then he responds, obviously choosing his words carefully. "Minerva and I have, over the past fourteen years since I began teaching, created a ritual of spending that evening together. We usually sit, drink wine, and talk about everything; everything except that. I find it difficult to get through that day."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why? Because that day represents everything that went wrong in my world." He says harshly. "Until that day I was able to function normally as a Death Eater. I had sponsorship for my work, I had a fiancé, I had a future, and I believed in the strength of pure-bloods. When you left, no, when you fled, it forced me to look closer at what we were doing,  
  
"Bena, it didn't start out as muggle baiting and torturing. The first time Lucius brought me to hear the Dark Lord talk, it was magnificent. He went on at great length at how our mingling with muggles and intermarrying had weakened our culture and our magic. How we had allowed wizarding blood to be diluted and its value lessen. It made sense.  
  
That you couldn't see that frustrated me. But, when he asked, when the Dark Lord demanded, that as proof of my loyalty, I would take your life....I realized how deranged he had become. I had no intention of killing you that night."  
  
I stare at him. "I do not believe you. You came at me, wand raised. You cursed me. You threw the Impediment Curse and and the Imperious at me!"  
  
"Yes, but do you remember what I told you to do while under the imperius? I told you to flee. I told you to run. Lucius and Regulus were with me; I had to be convincing. Fortunately, your dueling skills were quite advanced, so I was not forced to immibilize the two of them myself. I would not have harmed you."  
  
"Yet you did, Severus. My wrist was broken by the time I escaped and fled to Hogwarts. I was frightened out of my wits. We had been married seven hours, Severus, when you attacked me. Albus took me in and immediately arranged for an illegal international floo. I didn't have anything of my own when I fled. I had my wedding robes, a pair of slippers, and my wand. That was all."  
  
By now both our eyes are shining, neither of us willing to cry.  
  
Severus continues on; I no longer trust my voice to speak. "It was not long after I found out about the Dark Lord's plan to kill the Potters. The murder of an innocent child, combined with your requested murder, proved to me how disturbed and unhinged he had become, and I was unable to follow him any more. I went to Albus, who believed me."  
  
I know Severus has not told many people this. I never knew his reasons for turning from Voldemort. It is a small comfort to know I was part of it. I stare at our clasped hands for a few moments longer, before shaking myself.  
  
I bring a hand up to my eyes to wipe away the tears that have formed and take the broach from his hand. "Did your mother want me to have this?"  
  
"Of course not," he replies, smiling, "but she wasn't a Snape, and father approved of our marriage, so she had no choice. Here, let me." He says, taking it from me.  
  
Standing behind me, he reaches his arms around me and fastens the broach at my neck, where it sits, gleaming.  
  
Turning me to face him, he reaches in for a kiss. "Now you are ready to take on Narcissa Malfoy. Keep your guard up. Be aware she is not good at Occlumency, though she can detect when someone is using Legimency on her. She is excellent at lying. Please Bena," he stops me at the door with a soft hand on my wrist, "keep your guard up. Your life depends upon it." 


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11  
  
Tapping three bricks in quick succession, I enter briskly into Diagon Alley. The smell, sights, and sounds hit me full force as I enter the most famous street in the British Wizarding World.  
  
The smile on my face would put the Cheshire cat to shame, and even Albus would have to scramble to provide a more blissful expression. A few heads turn in my direction, but I pay them no heed.  
  
Striding onward, my eyes dart from window shop to window shop, my glance gliding over familiar shops and new businesses, finally coming to rest on the dark entrance to Knockturn Alley. I stop and shift nervously.  
  
Though I understand the need to subterfuge, I do not think it wise for Narcissa to be slinking around dodgy places like this. After all, with a husband in Azkaban, the last thing she needs is further suspicion thrown on her and the Malfoy name.  
  
A few moments later, I see an elegantly hooded blond head emerge among the denizens of Knockturn Alley. I follow the deep green cloak as it approaches and then glides past me, stopping only slightly to assure I have begun to follow her.  
  
A few more blocks back into Diagon Alley finds us in front of Gentilly's Tea House. Gaudy Christmas decorations adorn the windows, and I shudder at the thought of spending an afternoon there.  
  
Swallowing hard, I follow the cloak inside. As my eyes adjust to the garish yellow light and steamy atmosphere, Narcissa moves to a table in the back, ordering for us both. I remove my outer cloak and hang it beside hers. Brushing my hand against the green fabric I feel cashmere.  
  
Impressive, Narcissa. At least, perhaps to someone who doesn't stand to inherit a fortune that will make the Malfoy fortune look like a child's weekly allowance. Instead, I find it unnecessary and extravagant.  
  
I sit down across the small table from her, knowing that I truly being my career as a mole now. If I can convince Narcissa, I can convince the Death Eaters, for there are not many who have the backbone to go against the Lady Malfoy.  
  
"Narcissa." I acknowledge her with a nod. She is opening a napkin on her lap. She looks up at me, her face still scrunched as though Lucius spread manure on her upper lip and told her not remove it upon pain of death.  
  
She elegantly pulls her blond hair out of her face and fixes a sickly smile on her features, "Bena. How excellent to see you again. Severus certainly is pleased to have you back. I am happy for you both. I hope you are able to reclaim your friendships."  
  
I almost laugh out loud. Of her opening sentence, only the part about Severus was true. Instead, hearing Severus's words of wisdom in my mind's ear, I bite back the scathing remark on my tongue and instead smile dazzlingly.  
  
"I hope to start with you, dear Narcissa. After all, you put more effort into my wedding than did I. I did you quite a disservice, fleeing the country as I did so many years ago. I regretted many times that I was stuck in the Wizarding States without a friend as dear as you."  
  
Though anyone at Hogwarts would have seen through the lies immediately, Narcissa is as her name implies, and she has already lost much interest in what I am saying, and has instead turned the main focus of her attention to her tea and biscotti. I switch tactics.  
  
"Did Severus mention our concern over the Black estate?"  
  
Immediately her eyes snap back to mine. "Yes," she says slowly.  
  
"And?" I prompt her.  
  
"I spoke with Draco. He is willing to sign the house over to Severus. Circe knows he won't need another one. Lucius and I have the cottage in Cannes and the villa in Tuscany to give him as a wedding present. And, of course, he will inherit the Manor upon Lucius's death."  
  
"What do you plan on doing with the house? Establishing the House of Snape once again?" she says laughing.  
  
Seeing my eyes downcast, and a faint glow rising in my cheeks, she instantly stops her laughter.  
  
"Oh, Bena, I am sorry, I never thought, it's just, oh you can't be serious." Her unctuous voice stuttered to a stop.  
  
"No, Narcissa, I am not. But, I will need your help. I, I will need your help. And I don't just mean in solidifying the transference of the house to Severus's name, I mean back into society, and.....other organizations of which my husband may belong." I say, hopefully conveying to her that I am in earnest.  
  
She looks at me. I carefully move my eyes from side to side, hoping to communicate that I am aware of what I am suggesting, though nervous about it. That isn't too difficult, as I am nervous about what I am suggesting.  
  
Apparently pleased with what she has found while watching me, she leans forward and whispers, "Lucius is to break out of Azkaban this evening. Once he is back home, which should be late tonight, I will talk with him. Wait for a message for me early tomorrow morning."  
  
Leaning back, she raises her voice to full volume again, "I'm sorry to cut our visit short, but I must be getting back to my son. He was asking about you, he seems anxious to meet you. Hopefully we can have you over to tea or perhaps supper sometime soon. Good day, Bena."  
  
And she sweeps magnificently from the teahouse. As much as I may be against the principles of the pureblood mania, the upbringing Narcissa received trained her to intimidate and impress under any circumstances. Rule, Britannia, with an aristocracy such as that. And, if I am not mistaken, Narcissa has taken me under her wing. Oh yes, I am far on my way of being presented to Voldemort. May Merlin guide me. 


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12:  
  
The rest of the day is spent in the dungeons, Severus inexplicably absent. I do not speak to anyone, using my time instead to keep an update on my correspondence. I have several friends and colleagues anxiously awaiting news of my settling in. I shall send the letters via international floo, not wanting to tax Severus's poor owl too terribly; only a short trip down to the post office in Hogsmeade is required for the letters to be dispatched.  
  
Thirteen letters, three hours, and a hand cramp later, I sit back in the high backed chair, my back complaining in protest at having to sit hunched for so long. The candle in the corner of Severus's desk has melted short.  
  
Without my noticing, the sky has grown dark. I have no doubt missed supper. Moving to the small pantry with which Severus has provided the makings for a small snack or meal, I procure water crackers, a crumbly Stilton, and a very fine port.  
  
Settling in front of the fire, I lose myself in Severus's collection of ancient tomes on a variety of topics. Before I know, there comes a loud knocking on the door. Rubbing my eyes, I make my way slowly to the door.  
  
Opening it, I find Remus in the doorway, a paper clutched in his hand. "Bena, where's Severus?" he asks urgently.  
  
"I do not know, Remus. How late is it?"  
  
"Late? Bena, it is very early." He tells me, a hint of bewilderment in his voice.  
  
Turning a blearly eye in the direction of the window, I find he is telling the truth. I slept through the night on the sofa.  
  
"Bena, where is Severus?"  
  
Confused as why he is asking again, I shake my head, "I've no idea. He wasn't in our rooms when I returned from Diagon Alley," Remus looks at me sharply, I forget he does not know about my meeting with Narcissa, "and he apparently hasn't returned yet. Why?"  
  
Remus's face carries a pained expression as he raises his eyes to mine. "Bena, Severus left yesterday to go to Malfoy Manor, and, presumably, to proceed to a Death Eater meeting. He has not yet informed Albus of his return, as he always does."  
  
His final sentence hits me bit by bit. "Remus, why are you holding the paper so tightly? Why are so worried? Remus, please, tell me." I realize by this time, my tone has become distraut. I am, for the first time in my life, playing the worried wife. I find I do not like it at all. My heart is in my throat, my stomach is doing turns, and my pulse is fluttering.  
  
Remus swallows and pushes past me, into the room. As he does, he presses the Daily Prophet into my hands. Unfolding it, I am confronted with the disdainful smile of Lucius Malfoy, sneering up at me from under the headline 'Release from Azkaban: Minister Fudge orders release of Lucius Malfoy'  
  
A breath catches in my throat. At that moment, there is a pecking at the window. Torn from the dizzingly number of thoughts playing out in my head, I walk over the window, taking the letter from an unfamiliar owl. I open it, Remus watching me carefully.  
  
I do not register the imprint of the seal, a deep green. Instead, my eyes are drawn to the tidy print covering only a scant line of the small folded parchment. It is a line from Narcissa, requesting my presence at Malfoy Manor that evening for dinner. The note asks for a response, which explains why the owl has stayed at the window.  
  
I look wildly to Remus, showing him the note. His look provides me no answers. "You must say yes. Severus is most likely there. You need, you need to go there, Bena."  
  
I nod and scribble a response in the affirmative. The owl soars out the window. Remus and I are left alone again. I feel a shudder of tears wracking its way through my chest. Before I am aware of it myself, my knees buckle below.  
  
Remus catches me, and guides me to the sofa. His arms envelope me; I feel no hidden impulse of desire from his ministrations. That, more than his embrace, comforts me and I lean further into him, the stress from the part week surfacing.  
  
I do not speak to him of my woes, content merely to cry. We stay like this a while longer, until Remus, gently, brushes my hair from my tear-stained face. Kissing my forehead, he draws me from the sofa.  
  
"We should speak to Albus."  
  
Giving him a small smile, I nod, but say, "No, Remus, I need to speak with Albus. I will go to him now. Thank you."  
  
Quitting myself of his presence, I walk resolutely towards Albus's office. As I am passing through the Great Hall, Minerva's voice cuts across my clouded thoughts.  
  
"Settled in then, Professor?"  
  
I sigh loudly. Now is not the time for a confrontation with Minerva. Turning to face her, I draw myself up to my full height, as impressive as her own. She walks the three remaining steps down to bring herself even with me. She closes the gap so we are mere inches apart.  
  
"I am observing you, Bena. Hurt Severus, even a little, and I will come down upon you. He will be too easily broken."  
  
Though I do not betray it to her, I am shaken. "Minerva, there will be a time when I will desire nothing more than to squabble and argue with you. Now, however, I am on my way to Albus. Please forgive me."  
  
Sweeping past her, I continue my climb up the stairs. Feeling my heart beat painfully in my chest, I have hope Albus will be able to put it all right. The mother lion is protecting her cub more fiercely than I expected. Knocking loudly, I again hear the words, "Enter, my child." 


	13. Chapter 13

Chapter 13:  
  
The light in Albus's office is soft, flickering from the fire in the grate. He is sitting front of it, rather than behind his desk, as is his custom. He motions me to join him in the empty chintz armchair beside his. Tucking my feet underneath me I look around for a blanket to further dispel the cold that has crept into my bones.  
  
I notice he still has the drapes drawn, though morning is upon us. "Severus has not returned?" he inquires softly.  
  
Keeping my gaze trained on the fire, I respond, feeling in my bones this conversation will turn fast and wild soon. "I did not know he was missing, until Remus knocked me up this morning."  
  
"Still no word from him? I thought I saw an owl grace your windowsill this morning."  
  
I turn sharply to look him in the face. His eyes are not twinkling. "The owl was from Narcissa. Inviting me to supper at the Manor this evening." I answer his raised eyebrow. "I have had no word from Severus."  
  
"Why are you receiving messages from Narcissa Malfoy, Bena?" his voice has dropped in temperature by only a few degrees.  
  
"I wish to rebuild a few of the bridges I burned so many years ago. Severus spoke with her on my behalf. I think it wise..." but I am cut off.  
  
"You wish to rebuild? Bena, there are far more worthy witches with which to reclaim friendship with."  
  
"That may be," I agree, "however, there not many witches better situated for me to befriend and keep an eye on my husband." The eyebrow raises again.  
  
"This new concern for your husband is admirable; please forgive me if I seem overly surprised by it."  
  
"Severus and I have discussed at length how to redeem myself in the eyes of the Death Eaters and those associated with them. In order to keep him safe, Albus, I must either keep myself entirely from him, which, seeing as I am ensconced at Hogwarts is impossible, or I must try and win back their affections, twisted though they may be. Narcissa is the easiest and most accessible of all I could attempt this with."  
  
"You met with her yesterday." He states, leaving no hint of question.  
  
"I may have." I reply cautiously. We are both playing our hands carefully. Conversations between Dumbledores are rarely informative if there are others in the room, as we have long ago devised methods of conveying information with a minimum amont of words and minute gestures.  
  
"No, Bena, do not lie. You met with her at that insipid tea house she has favored since her days at Hogwarts."  
  
"You had me followed!" I flash at him.  
  
"I did no such thing." He replies calmly.  
  
"Albus! You placed a damned tracking spell on me. I am not some child, incapable of taking care of myself, or perhaps you do not trust me." The last is put in to bait him. If I am going to learn anything from him this morning, I will need him angry.  
  
"I do not trust you."  
  
Suddenly it is very difficult to remain seated, though I do. Of all the arguments Albus and I were to have in my head, the issue of my trustworthiness was not included.  
  
"I do not trust you." I spit back.  
  
There is a minor flash in those old eyes. That one hurt. "I have given you many reasons over the years to hate me, Bena. And, over the past few months I have indeed give you reasons to doubt me. I ask, though, that you do trust me now, and always."  
  
"Why? When you would sacrifice Severus for the sake of Harry Potter?" There is disbelief heavy in my voice.  
  
"I would not forsake him, Bena. I do ask much of him, we both know that. But I do not demand it of him. Were Severus to tell me tomorrow he was done with it, I would accept that. But, I need him to spy, Bena. Harry is the focus of the Plan; you must understand that. He is essential for it. In the Order, it is understood by all members that his safety is foremost. But that does not mean I will abandon the others. Especially Severus."  
  
Very touching, though I am not calmed. "You still send him back to be beaten, tortured, and Merlin knows what else. You abuse his Slytherins, exulting the Gryfindors instead; you allow all Hogwarts rules to be thrown away if broken by Misters Potter and Weasley, and Miss Granger. You are not fair to him, Albus. Why do you then expect him, and by relation, me, to be fair to you?" These words have been fed to me by Severus, and I parrot them back faithfully.  
  
"For the reason that Severus owes me his life." He says simply.  
  
"Albus, his life is again on the line. I must side with him. He needs this. He needs me. Again and again, you have written to me over the years since Harry Potter came to Hogwarts. Again and again, you have told me how Severus wished you to act fairly, but you could not see his reasons. Albus, I have sat by too long. I am now involved. And I will stand at Severus side. In front of Lord Voldemort, if that is what is required of me." My eyes are flashing, and when Albus raises his to mine, they match my intensity.  
  
"Do you forget the prophecy, Bena, the reason I kept you away until now? It is time for it to be fulfilled; I need your courage and your strength. Oh yes, go to Tom, bow before him, kiss his robes, do his bidding. That is not courage. Severus turned from it when he realized that. You will know new depths of revulsion soon enough, Bena. If this is how you wish to continue, fine. But hold true to me, Bena. Hold true to me."  
  
Albus is shaking. He is frightened of losing me. I play the last card I have remaining. "Allow me to take my name."  
  
He wettens his lips, his tongue darting out, "I do not believe I ever denied you your husband's name."  
  
I chuckle lightly, "No, Albus. Allow me to be a Dumbledore, and I will frighten Tom Riddle as he has never been frightened before." 


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14:  
  
Although I am mildly comforted by Albus's words and assurances, there is still a heavy weight on my heart. I still have ambitions to restore the Snape family name. I still wish to convince Narcissa to sign the house over to Severus. But, I no longer wish to destroy Albus in the process.  
  
Oh, I do not truly think I would have done it, but I could have very easily gone too far to come safely back. But now I will not. I will allow myself to be manipulated and follow Albus's instructions. For a while, at least.  
  
But, until I receive my marching orders, I will continue to press forward. Passing into my rooms I survey the wardrobe for a suitable outfit for tonight's festivities. Before long, Remus joins me.  
  
"You mean to go, then?" he asks, framed squarely by the door, a visual reminder of the steadfast and solid rock he has been for me.  
  
"Yes," I respond tersely, "Will you help me fasten this necklace?" I hold both ends of a breathtaking emerald and diamond cascade. Hanging from my pale throat I know I will be beautiful.  
  
Taking a short swish around the rooms, I look to Remus for consent, "Do I pass? Shall I be acceptable for the Malfoys?" He nods his approval and as I pass him on my way out, I give him a brief peck on the cheek. "Thank you." I say softly, before sweeping up the steps and out the doors of the Great Hall.  
  
I still remember exactly where to apparate for the Manor, and as I arrive, I see the entire house, all three wings ablaze. This will be quite the fete. It is not every day a convicted Death Eater is released by the Minister. I think of Albus's hints to discover how far gone Fudge is, in case I need to employ them.  
  
My heart beats faster as I think of the possibility of seeing Severus again, especially in this garb. If the few responses I have received so far from the three men I have passed on my way inside, I must be well worth the three hours preparation I put in.  
  
A young wizard opens the front doors for me, and I am swept along with the crowd for several minutes, seeing several familiar faces in the crowd. There is a quite a collection here this evening. Most of the Death Eaters at large are present, as are many Ministry officials. Other dignitaries, domestic and foreign, are mingling in the crowd, and every lord and lady still alive in Great Britain appears to have made it out for the occasion.  
  
Before I am forced out of the third room of the evening, I feel a light hand on my left shoulder. Looking in that direction, I see a brilliant Narcissa beaming at me. "Bena! You have arrived! Splendid! You look stunning. Here, come with me; there are several people you need to see. Severus is here somewhere, as well. Hopefully we'll run into him before long." My arm is pulled along the edges of the room, which mercifully part before the hostess as they had not for me, and we are quickly surrounded by a smaller, quieter group of men and women.  
  
It takes me only a moment to realize this room is not on the general circuit of the festivities, and also that almost every witch and wizard present in this room is a Death Eater.  
  
Splendid. My hackles raised to their highest alert and my reflexes on overdrive, I flash a surprisingly bright smile in the direction of Misters Crabbe and Goyle, still looking as idiotic as they ever did in their youth. They neither of them recognize me and I move along to the left, Narcissa having abandoned me to the far side of the room, presumably to begin planting whispers of my arrival.  
  
I should have expected this sort of ambush, I realize wryly. My eyes search for Severus, but I cannot discern his tall slender form among the crowd. Instead, my eyes fall evenly on Lucius Malfoy, talking low with the Cornelius Fudge.  
  
My eyes flutter shut for a moment before I hear my voice being called by the master of the house. Here it begins. Plastering an expression of, I hope warmth, I approach the two gentlemen.  
  
Lucius greets me with a kiss on the cheek, though he has in the past taken far more liberties with his greeting. After the perfunctory introductions with the Minister, Lucius cattles me away to a corner as effectively as a prize winning sheep dog.  
  
Staring me directly in the eye, his cold gray gaze matches the tone in his voice, "So, dear Bena, returned to England and Severus, have you? I do hope you are willing to fulfill your end of the bargain. Our Lord is not forgiving, or forgetful. You have much to make up for."  
  
Taking a glass of champagne from a passing house elf, I train my gaze on the rest of the room, murmuring from the corner of my mouth, "Make up for? My dear Lucius" I purr, "it was not I who was to commit murder. I am the one who fled. And as for the bargain, I was not aware any had been made."  
  
"Your husband took the very great liberty of informing the Dark Lord of your shifting loyalties." He purrs back. Lucius is so very good at the game.  
  
"Loyalties may be too strong a word. Let it simply be that spending nearly two decades among the Americans would make anyone, even the largest muggle- loving fool, yearn for a more separate, more pure, magical society." I risk a small glance in his direction and am rewarded by a raising of his glass to mine in mock toast.  
  
"Well, my dear, you are in luck. This night shall not only celebrate my freedom, but your proper reinstitution to Severus's side, as had been so hoped for all those years ago. Though I must warn you, you had best be sincere in this, Bena. Or you shall pay, and it shall not be pleasant."  
  
He gives a curt nod and walks off to greet another guest. I survey the room again; still no sign of Severus. I am becoming anxious, when Lucius waves his wand to seal the two entrances shut and turns, all eyes in the room now upon him. He addresses the crowd, his face agleam in the firelight.  
  
"And now, my friends, we shall get the true party underway. We assemble in five minutes!" And with this, the majority of the room clutch their left forearms and disapparate from the room.  
  
I feel a strong hand on my right arm, and Lucius silky voice enters my ear, "Grab onto me, Bena. This shall be fun." The moment I do, I feel the familiar woosh and crack of apparation, frightened of what I will find when I open my eyes. 


	15. Chapter 15

Chapter 15:  
  
Immediately my eyes open. I have no idea where I am. Allowing another person to lead during apparation is a disorienting experience. Allowing my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting, I am able to discern we are in a clearing, outside.  
  
There is a small crowd appearing from the shadows all around us. I give a sharp intake of breath as I notice they all have white masks on. I turn to my right and see Lucius, still at my elbow, has a white face as well. A Death Eater meeting.  
  
Straining my ears, I hear what I was fearing. A high, cold, nasal voice assails my eardrums just off to my right. And there he is. Voldemort.  
  
"Ah, my followers." Hisses the voice. He is accompanied by another masked Death Eater, who remains steadfast at his side. I attempt to stay hidden behind Lucius, who, for the moment, appears content to let me do so.  
  
Sliding a long-fingered, bony hand out from the folds of his robes, Voldemort rests his hand on the Death Eater at his side and whispers something in his ear. The response catches me off guard.  
  
"Yes, my lord. The double batch will be ready in a few days' time. I assure you it will be perfect." Simpers the usually silky voice of my husband. Drawing back even further behind Lucius, I hear his voice cut across the silence.  
  
"My lord," drawls the infuriating voice, "I have brought you a present. One Severus may be interested to see as well." I am thrust forward into the middle of the circle, falling clumsily to the ground.  
  
I hear soft laughter from the group. Drawing up my courage, I stand and face Lord Voldemort directly, raising my chin proudly. I do not allow my eyes to drift sideways to my husband.  
  
Voldemort strides forward, a wicked smile playing on his lips. "My dear Bena. I was under the impression I had ordered you dead. Yet here you stand, in front of me. Very much alive."  
  
He snakes a hand out and caresses my jaw line. I repress a shudder and stand my ground. I am formulating a response when he speaks again, "Severus! Come here."  
  
Severus strides forward. I am unable to make eye contact, as his black eyes are mostly hidden beneath his mask. As he steps even with Voldemort, the dark lord reaches over and raises my husband's mask.  
  
Severus' eyes are glittering dangerously, though not with their customary malice. Instead, intense fear is visible. My resolve is shattering. If he does not have hope of us surviving this, I cannot find it myself.  
  
"Now Severus, tell the others the recent developments involving dear Bena." I have already become tired of the affectionate term he has coupled with my name. I know unmasking Severus is indicative of something; I only wish I could remember what.  
  
Severus clears his throat, "The Old Fool' he capitalizes the deragotory term, 'has hired my wife as the Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor, replacing the werewolf. As many of you will remember, I was ordered to kill Bena Hummell over eighteen years ago. Because of her close assocation with the Old Fool, she was able to escape and I was unable to track her. Until now. Since her return however, she has expressed a changing of opinion."  
  
With this last statement, Severus turns to face Voldemort. The two of them stare at each other for a few moments. I hear my voice before it is called. Walking swiftly to the edge of the circle where Voldemort has situated himself, I drop elegantly to my knees, bringing my lips in one gesture to the dusty hems of Lord Voldemort's robes.  
  
A small piece of twig or thorn had attached itself to the fabric and finds its way to my lips as I bow low. I struggle not to cry out as my flesh is pierced. I keep my ears as attentive as I can, hoping to catch some kind of reaction to my sudden action.  
  
There is much whispering among the ranks. Lucius is chuckling lightly. Severus is too far away for me to discern. From Lord Vodemort is, unbelievably, emanating the sound of purring. I raise my head and look directly into his red eyes, my bottom lip bleeding slightly.  
  
"She has spirit, Severus. How long have you been rehearsing this?"  
  
"Not long, my lord," I respond to the question not directed at me. "Severus went through the finer parts of it, though I confess it was my idea originally." I rest my hindquarters on my heels, remaining on my knees in the dirt in front of him.  
  
From the corner of my eye, I see Severus make the imperceptible movement towards his concealed wand.  
  
"Why should I believe you, Hummell?" Voldemort whispers. "In the years preceding your disappearance you were quite vocal against me. You grew up under the care of Albus Dumbledore. While in the Wizarding States these past eighteen years, you have championed the causes of the muggles and muggle-lovers. I find it very difficult to believe you have suddenly had a change of heart. Convince me."  
  
I shake my head to ensure a clear thought process. I raise myself to standing and begin to pace the few feet in front of the Dark Lord.  
  
"I understand your reluctance to accept my claim. I would were I in your place. However, let me explain.' My pacing resembles that often found in my classroom, or of Albus in his study. Dumbledores find it comforting to walk, think, and talk. 'Yes, I have always expressed an opinion contrary to those professed by the witches and wizards in this circle. Much has changed in the past eighteen years. I have, in the past eighteen years, been free of my constant supervision from the 'Old Fool'. As I am sure you are aware, there is a movement within the Wizarding States that feels the culture of the muggles oppressive, boorish, and severely infracting upon the way of life we ought be allowed to live.  
  
"In short, there is a growing minority in the States that sides with you, milord." I bow in his direction before continuing. "It has been my happy privilege to have been an integral member of this movement."  
  
"Convince me, Bena." Voldemort drawls.  
  
I look swiftly to the left and the right, before leaning in, creating an atmosphere of intimacy with the dark lord and longing among the Death Eaters.  
  
"The heir of the Dumbledores has been shunted to the shadows long enough. I am ready to come into light. Permit, milord, to do so." 


	16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16:  
  
Amazing how heavy silence can be. No one makes a sound; no one draws a breath. All eyes are fixed on Voldemort, including mine. The thin lips have become a scant line; his red eyes mere slits. The gears moving in his head to adapt this bombshell of information are visible.  
  
Slowly, very slowly, I straighten up and take three steps back from my intimate interview with the Dark Lord. As I wait for his response, I risk a look over to Severus. He is standing five steps to my left. Spell shocked. His face is stony, betraying no emotion. I know, however, that inside a storm is raging.  
  
A slight rustle from Voldemort and my gaze snaps back to meet his eyes.  
  
"I do not believe you, Bena."  
  
I behave confidently...too confidently. "Very well. I will take my knowledge elsewhere." I take my wand from an inner pocket, but before I am able to cast the apparition spell, I find myself on the ground, experiencing bone-shattering pain.  
  
Lucius has cast cruciatus while my attention was diverted. Damn. Remembering Severus's trick to not crying out, I begin mentally reciting the ingredients and instructions for first the polyjuice potion, followed the Draught of Living Death, Concoction for Coughing, and several others, gradually becoming more complex in nature.  
  
Eventually the curse is lifted. It could have been thirty seconds or thirty minutes. I have no concept of how time has passed. I sit up, gasping. I did not cry out, of that I am sure. That knowledge is further enforced by the expressions on the faces of Lucius, Severus and Voldemort.  
  
Lucius looks furious. Severus relieved. Voldemort, with what little emotion he is able to express, seems very interested. "How did you do that?" he asks finally.  
  
"My lord?" I inquire.  
  
"You did not cry out. How?"  
  
Deciding the truth would earn me a chuckle, "By reciting the ingredients from my N.E.W.T. level potions text."  
  
Severus lets a small smile play across his features. Voldemort gives a dry laugh. "Very well played, Hummel." He catches himself. "Dumbledore." He corrects.  
  
"Very well, I accept, Bena. Tomorrow Severus will guide you to a special meeting place. He has to deliver a potion there. You and I will discuss this new alliance. Go now, before you are missed."  
  
I step back, feeling a bit concerned. I do not know where I am; it will be difficult to disapparate back to Hogsmeade. Suddenly, Severus is at my side, his hand grasping mine. "Let me guide." He whispers in my ear.  
  
We bow together to Voldemort and disappear with a crack. Moments later we are appear just outside the gates of the Hogwarts grounds. I turn to Severus, a large smile playing on my features.  
  
"It worked, Severus, I was able to convince him." I am overjoyed.  
  
Severus answers me harshly, "How pleasant for the heir of the Dumbledores. Excuse me." And he begins to stride harshly towards the castle, leaving me gaping on the other side of the gates.  
  
Hoisting my robes, I scurry after him. Before Severus has reached the castle, though, Albus has come out to greet him. Albus's face looks haggard, tired and old. He has been worried for this lost son.  
  
Night is still heavy all around us, though in the far eastern view across the lake, the very early signs of morning have begun. Severus stops briefly to talk to Albus, but continues his rapid gait to the castle almost immediately.  
  
Albus turns to look at me. His face now contains every trace of sadness. Wordlessly I come to his side and we lean heavily upon one another as we make our way up to Albus's office. I know I will not be welcome in the dungeons any time soon, and though I will be forcing the confrontation shortly, I welcome the respite of tea and lemon drops.  
  
Albus sits on a small sofa I have not seen before in front of his fire. He pats the space next to him and I gratefully move forward to join him. Just as I did when I was a little girl, I curl my legs up under me and place my head on Albus's lap. He absently begins to pat my head, his old fingers swirling through my hair.  
  
My thoughts, already swirling, drift back to the last time I found myself being comforted by my great uncle.  
  
It was my wedding night. Severus had left hours before with his father and the Malfoys, with no word as to their destination. The guests had left hours before as well. Narcissa and I were the only ones left in Malfoy Manor. I do not find her much comfort for the unexplained absence of my new husband and so have retreated upstairs to the suite Severus and I have been lent for the evening.  
  
I drift off and am awakened moments later by hushed voices outside the main door to the suite. Unable to discern actual words being said, I freeze when I hear the knob rattle and Severus's voice say, very clearly, "I understand, Father. I will immobilize her first and then cast the killing curse. No, I am quite capable of doing this. Thank you."  
  
Casting my eyes around wildly, I know the moment I have feared is arriving. The months leading up to our wedding have been filled with arguments and odd behavior by Severus. I know he supports Lord Voldemort, a politician who has been gaining many supporters as of late. I also know I do not agree with his views on muggleborns.  
  
I grab my wand from the night table and scurry to the French doors off the bedroom. Using my wand to silently open the doors, I step out into the cold winter air. My breath is taken away, but I urged myself sideways onto the ledge. Slowly, I carry myself to the rainspout and slide down, smashing my wrist in the process.  
  
Watching the lights flare in our suite, as first Severus, then the others find it empty, now four floors above me, I scamper across the yard. Once safely outside the anti-apparation wards, I pull my dressing gown tightly around me, and apparate just outside Hogwarts. Albus comforted me then as he is now.  
  
We sit in silence for a while longer, before I gather my strength and make for the dungeons, and the argument that is waiting. 


	17. Chapter 17

Chapter 17:  
  
"Bena?" calls Remus's voice as I cross the flagstones to the dungeons. I turn to face him, but say nothing.  
  
"I saw Severus. He's back, then?" Closing my eyes, I respond in the affirmative. We stand there awkwardly, both at a lost for words. Before I can think of an adequate response, I feel a presence behind me.  
  
"Enjoy your evening, Bena?" Minerva McGonagall has appeared from the dungeons. My heart stops in my throat, hurt that Severus has turned to her in his need. I will myself not to rise to the bait, all the while cursing my luck at running across not one, but two of my colleagues.  
  
"It was enlightening. Thank you for the inquiry, Minerva. Please, both of you excuse me. I am exhausted, it being nearly dawn." Minerva is about to rail at me when Remus stills her with a stern look. My face is drawn, and I feel tears running down my cheeks. I had not meant to cry, but the sheer overwhelming course of events has worn me down. I am reserving all my strength for my husband.  
  
She miraculously heeds the advice and the two of them leave me alone. Steady steps take me to the heavy wooden door leading to our rooms. I mutter the password but find the door won't budge.  
  
Fine. If Severus wishes to play petulantly, I will play right back. I begin banging wildly upon the door. When I receive the expected response, that is to say, none, I step up the stakes. He will hate me for it.  
  
Three months before out wedding, Severus and I had a huge falling out over the Malfoys and Voldemort. He, of course, supported them; I, of course, did not. As I was still madly in love with him, after two weeks absence, I decided to win him back. I sat outside his window at the Malfoy's, pulled out a ukulele and sang, in a delightful warble, "Loving you is easy 'cause you're beautiful. And everything that you do, aaaaahahahahah."  
  
Within seconds, then, as now, Severus's face appeared in front of me. I struggle to keep a smile from my face. He glares at me and reaches a hand out to me. I am pulled inside, the door slammed quickly behind me.  
  
Severus strides past me, clad in his dressing gown, not the brown one I had given him, but a newer dark blue one. He says nothing, but his expression speaking volumes. All traces of amusement have left my face.  
  
"Sit." He commands. I sit.  
  
"Explain." He commands. I explain.  
  
"I do not understand."  
  
"I am not surprised." I answer wearily. My explanation took the hefty portion of an hour. My throat is raw from everything I have abused it with these past fourteen hours.  
  
"All these years, all this time, you were his and you did not tell me."  
  
"Severus, I could not. Albus swore me to secrecy. I would have thought you, among all wizards, to understand the importance of an accord reached with him."  
  
"I understand that. What I do not understand is that you chose him over your own grandfather. Over your own parents." His voice is so cold, attempting to figure me out.  
  
"Because my grandfather bowed to his brother's plans. My parents, for their part, could not have cared less. Do you remember me once, in all our years of acquaintance, mentioning my parents?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Precisely. They did not care about me, and I did not care about them. I was left up to my grandfather and great-uncle. And Aberforth and Albus raised me as Albus saw fit."  
  
"Why? Why was Albus given free reign?" He has now come to point I have been dancing around for the past hour.  
  
"Because of a prophecy." I answer guardedly.  
  
This has, at least, piqued his interest. Severus leans forward in the chair, his eyes now glinting in the dying firelight. "At last, we are getting somewhere."  
  
My eyes browse languidly over the room, searching for some sort of stalling option. Albus and I had not discussed revealing the prophecy to anyone. Severus, however, is not willing to let go of the carrot dangling in front of him  
  
"Bena." He says menacingly. I swallow. Gasping at straws, I blurt out the first thought that enters my head.  
  
"Where have you been for the past two days?"  
  
I inhale sharply, seeing the disdainful sneer that settles on his lips. In sooth, I am quite interested in his recent whereabouts, and I hope he will indulge me.  
  
He does. "Working on potions."  
  
"Where?"  
  
"Not here. At Malfoy Manor. Lucius is able to keep a well-stocked lab hidden in the cellar of the house. Whenever the Dark Lord is in need of a less-than-appropriate potion, I go there to brew it."  
  
"What were you brewing?"  
  
"Ah. Ah, Bena. Quid pro quo. And I believe I asked my question first." He reprimands lightly. This is it, then. In two scant weeks I have been depleted of my royal flush. Tossing my last card on the table, I look him directly in the eye and recite dryly the words Albus told me years ago.  
  
"When the tutelage of the savior is falling to an end, the wise and white bumblebees will join together once more. The wisdom of the white shall give light to the wise, and the expulsion of evil will be delayed three seasons."  
  
"I have heard those words before." Severus says, surprise evident in his voice. I tilt my head sideways, startled at this proclamation. "When was the prophecy made?"  
  
"I do not know. Well before I was born. Albus told me was informed of its existence when he first came to Hogwarts to teach Transfiguration. An old acquaintance at the Ministry told him of it. When he found out I was to be born, he influenced my parents' choice of names for me. With the birth of Harry Potter, it became evident that I would play no small role in future events involving the boy."  
  
Severus has no answer for this. He sits back in his chair, his long fingers steepled together. "The boy arrives back at Hogwarts tomorrow. The Dark Lord has a plan to capture him. It is to take place the day after." 


	18. Chapter 18

Chapter 18:  
  
I wake up three hours later, stiff from sleeping in the armchair. As I work out a particularly stubborn kink in my shoulder, I notice Severus is again absent. Sighing loudly, I rise, beginning to feel this will be an oft-repeated scenario in our lives.  
  
I check the bedroom and bathroom, but he is not in our rooms. This must mean he is at breakfast. Casually casting a cleansing spell, too lazy to take a shower, I smooth my robe and head off to join him.  
  
Approaching the Great Hall, I am assaulted by a cacophony of unfamiliar voices, all young. The Dream Team has arrived. I stride confidently into the Great Hall. All conversation stops as I saddle up to the vacant space between Severus and, I presume from the untidy hair and glasses, Harry Potter.  
  
Albus is the only one thrilled to see me. Severus and Minerva have both adopted a cold shoulder. Remus is too far along the table to be of any comfort, and the children have yet to be introduced.  
  
"Good morning, my dear." Albus greets, "It is time for introductions. Harry, Mr. Weasley, Miss Granger, I would like to introduce you to your new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Bena Hummell."  
  
Oh my. Albus wasn't exaggerating the anger that has lodged itself in Harry Potter. Immediately, the boy begins an assault of questions.  
  
"Why does Lupin have to leave? I've never heard of her. Can she properly train us in dueling? Remus is the best Defense Against the Dark Arts professor we've ever had. Why does he have to leave now? Why change between terms?"  
  
Albus remains emotionless through the barrage. When Potter has gone silent Albus nods to me, indicating he wishes me to answer.  
  
"Mister Potter, I am Bena Hummell, witch extraordinaire. I assure you I am adequately trained in defense. I spent four years as a Tracker, the American equivalent of Aurors. You would be hard-pressed to find a curse or counter-curse I do not know." I answer, somewhat impressed by the lack of respect Potter is showing. Severus had told me the boy was insolent, but to openly assault Albus takes courage.  
  
I am further impressed as Potter pushes back the bench and stands, facing directly at me, his wand raised. Before he can utter whatever pathetic attempt at a curse he had in mind, I shoot, very quietly, an immobulus at him. He is frozen before his mouth closes.  
  
The table is quiet. Severus, I see, is smiling beneath his curtain of black hair. Albus has schooled a stern expression on his face, but his eyes are twinkling. Even Minerva doesn't appear to be entirely disapproving.  
  
The other two Gryffindors and Remus look horrified. Before any of them can protest, I release Potter from the spell. He shakes his head and looks at me. I keep my face as calm as possible, my hand still grasped on my wand. Instead, he breaks into a huge smile and sits back down beside me, pocketing his wand.  
  
"Thank you, Professor. I'm very impressed." He says. I am debating between smiling back and reprimanding him for his behavior. Knowing it will infuriate Severus, I opt for smiling.  
  
"Thank you, Mr. Potter. I hope you and I will be able to work very closely on developing a line of defensive spell study for the advanced students. I am sure Professor Snape would be willing to lend a hand." I smile even broader, feeling Severus stiffen beside me.  
  
"I do not think that is necessary, Bena." Severus says quickly.  
  
"Nonsense, Severus. I would appreciate your help. Therefore, with the headmaster's permission, I would like for you and I to restart the dueling club yet again. What say you?" I am extending the olive branch, knowing he would be fully justified in refusing me. However, the idea of having a school-sanctioned time to bounce curses off Harry Potter has fleeted through his mind and he seems unable to resist.  
  
"I will need some time to think about it." He responds carefully.  
  
I smile broadly and take a first bite of eggs and rashers. This day has gone far better than I had imagined, though I know the evening will be spent in strategy with Severus, Minerva, and Albus, and there will be little mirth.  
  
The rest of breakfast passes by with little interruptions, allowing me to observe the three young Gryffindors. Mr. Potter, directly to my right, is eating his food with enthusiasm, but there is fear behind his eyes. He seems far older than his seventeen years, and seems thankful to be able to slip into quiet here at the table while conversations play over his head.  
  
Upon observing Mr. Weasley, I find a smile has situated itself upon my face. The speed in which the young man is inhaling his third plate of breakfast is impressive, even more so is his ability to be able to maintain conversation with both of his schoolmates. Severus has said he is loyal to a fault, which he assures me is a familial trait, but that his heart is good and true.  
  
Severus, while given to long rants against Misters Potter and Weasley, has said little to malign Miss Granger. I have taken this as a sign that although he must publicly appear to despise her, he is indeed impressed by her intelligence. This morning, Miss Granger, sitting directly across from me, has taken a silent approach. She is watching me as I watch her. I do see the spark of intelligence in her brown eyes. I decide that, of the three, she and I will get along the best, and set about becoming her friend. She seems most appreciative of the attention. We make plans to meet in the library later that morning.  
  
Feeling very pleased with myself, I get up and head back to the dungeons. Halfway there I feel Severus following me. Smiling, I continue walking as though oblivious to him.  
  
Once I approach the doors to our rooms, however, I realize I do not know the new password. Waiting patiently for my husband to arrive, he steps up and mutters, almost silently, the password, too low for me to catch. Rather than allowing me first entrance, he strides forward. The door slam shut behind him before I am able to enter.  
  
Apparently I was too eager in my assessment of his anger mellowing towards me. Resigned to spending the day unwashed and in old clothes, I exit the dungeons and head out to the grounds. 


	19. Chapter 19

Chapter 19:  
  
The weather is unpleasant, winter having settled into its presence today. A chill wind is howling through the edges of the Forbidden Forest. Smoke is billowing from Hagrid's hut. I still have not seen the half-giant since my arrival. Deciding now would be as good a time as any, I amble down the path to his hut.  
  
Knocking loudly on the wooden door, I hear the bumbly man approach his side of the door. Opening it, he looks at me warily, then suddenly the spark of recognition flares and he pulls me inside and into a crushing hug.  
  
"Bena! I'd heard you was back! Took you long enough to come on down an' see me. Glad you did, though, glad you did. Come on in, come in then. 'Ave a seat. 'Ere, let me get you summat to drink." He moves around the hut. I am reveling in memory. Hagrid's hut was where I was shuffled whenever my uncle became too busy for me during visits. Hours upon hours were spent in his hut, or outside with his animals.  
  
Not much has changed. The bed, over in the corner is just as it was so many years ago—the patchwork quilt appears to be the same one, a thousand times patched over. The walls are covered with dishes and jackets, and every centimeter of free space on the ceiling is covered over by cages and pots, hanging from a multitude of nails and hooks.  
  
This, to me, is home. Hogwarts is wonderful and I adore it. Albus's cottage up north is pleasant and comfortable, but Hagrid's is easy, broken in, and immediately welcoming of everyone. I sigh and sit back in the huge chair. Hagrid pushes a mug of steaming something into my hands. I sip contentedly, taking in everything from this moment.  
  
Suddenly Severus does not seem so important. Albus seems even less so. Hagrid is my constant. Constant in his enthusiasm for life, constant in his loyalty to Albus, constant in his sheer size. Bless Hagrid, I laude loudly in my head. Before he and I can get into a conversation, though, a knock is heard on the door.  
  
"Hagrid?" I recognize the voice of Harry Potter. Silently cursing my luck at my quiet morning being interrupted, I take another sip of what I have determined to be Hagrid's attempt at tea.  
  
"Jus' a moment. Here you are, Harry. Took you this long to come an' see me, huh? Seems to be a popular thing to do this mornin'. Come on in, then, and join the fun." Hagrid welcomes the boy. Entering the cottage, Harry looks at me with surprise.  
  
"I didn't expect to see you here, Professor." He says politely.  
  
"I'll go outside and wash up another mug for yeh, Harry." Hagrid calls on his way out the back door.  
  
"Hagrid and I are old friends. I have been at Hogwarts for several days, but was unable to visit until now." I inform him.  
  
"How old of friends?" he asks.  
  
"I have known Hagrid all my life. I spent the first twenty summer and winter holidays of my life at Hogwarts." He digests this information and looks up, puzzled.  
  
"What do you mean?" he asks.  
  
"My grandfather is very close to the headmaster. Because of this, during holidays, I was invited to spend my time at Hogwarts. This is where all my childhood memories are." My smile is still nostalgic. Potter's face scrunches a little, before he speaks.  
  
"Must be nice."  
  
I had expected more. Prodding him into speech, I continue, "The Headmaster asked me to join my husband here at Hogwarts. He feels, and I agree, that together we might be able to get the vital information we need against Voldemort." I am pleased to note that there is not even an unconscious shiver on his part at the name.  
  
"Your husband." He says cautiously. I can tell he is cycling through the male professors at Hogwarts. As I continue to watch, I can see the look of abject horror upon his features, "Who is your husband?"  
  
Oh this will be fun. "Professor Snape."  
  
Potter reacts as though he has been slapped. His head whips to the left, his eyes widening. "Professor Snape?" he repeats incredulously.  
  
I smirk at him. "Oh, yes. Professor Snape and I have been married for eighteen years."  
  
If my first statement silenced him, this one floored him. He says nothing for a few moments. In the interim, Hagrid comes shuffling back in.  
  
"All righ', Harry? Bena, will you be needin' more tea then?" filling Harry's mug and refilling mine, he joins us at the table. Noticing neither of us is speaking he looks around nervously. "Was there somethin' I did?"  
  
"No, Hagrid." Harry rushes to assure the half-giant.  
  
"No, Hagrid," I agree. "I'm afraid I just told Mr. Potter about my husband."  
  
Hagrid starts to laugh. "Yep, Professor Snape. Funny, huh, Harry? But they was made for one other, than I can assure you. All those summers together, and Professor Dumbledore agreeing to the whole thing. Too bad it didn't last long, but later's better than never."  
  
I answer Potter's question before he can ask, and as well as the several others that follow, leaving out only my relation to the Headmaster and the prophecy. Soon enough, though, we are down to the dregs and I am due in the library. I make my goodbyes to Hagrid, and Potter and I trudge through the snow back to the castle.  
  
Upon entering the main hall, we part ways, Potter to find Mr. Weasley, me to find Miss Granger. I feel that I have gained an ally in the boy who lived, a fact that gives me some small comfort.  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
I have five chapter, plus epilogue left for this story. Thank you to all who have read...let me say something to those who have reviewed, as they are very valued.  
  
Anonymous: I will keep writing. And Bena is a 'good' girl, but I don't think she'll spy...there's that pesky prophecy to worry about.  
  
Noteoneforyou: well, I had realized that, and don't worry, it comes back in the end. In truth, I borrowed the idea from Dzeytoun, a fabulous author. The idea of the plan does come from Dumbledore himself at the end of OotP...so, like I said, it will reappear.  
  
Meriadoc / Celithrathien: I appreciate the comments. Bena has been a joy to write, though at times I wish she was a little nicer.  
  
TiffanyandCo: Thank you...Snape is, in my opinion, the most intriguing character in the books, it's fun to explore what he'd be like in this situation.  
  
Amailaya: I know it's dark, which is funny, because I am not. Ah well, the words just keep coming.  
  
Daintress: Oh, I hope you're still reading! Your first four reviews buoyed me up. Thank you, thank you!! 


	20. Chapter 20

Chapter 20:  
  
Walking into the library, the glorious musty smell of old tomes assaults my nose. Scanning the large room, I spot Miss Granger tucked into the corner, a large pile of books already pulled from the shelves.  
  
Looking up, she smiles sheepishly. "I had nothing else to do this morning, so I thought I'd look up topics I don't have time for during the school year." I nod empathetically and take the seat next to her.  
  
Within moments we are chatting as old friends. Books are a favorite topic of mine, and Miss Granger appears to have read quite a few. Unnoticed by both of us, we have been joined, and in the middle of a very engrossing conversation concerning the ethics of using illegal or controlled substances in medical potions, the potions master of Hogwarts slices through Hermione's rebuttal.  
  
"I believe the Ministry has taken a very different approach, Miss Granger," his voice inflects, "It is widely recognized that Gorgon's Lace may be readily substituted by the much more common, and more widely available, thyme."  
  
Both our eyes flash to his, anger evident on our faces upon being interrupted. Miss Granger, however, quickly controls her anger, something I assume by the ease in which it is performed, is common practice when classes are in session.  
  
I, however, do not back down. "Although I agree with the controls and regulations the Ministry has deemed necessary in the case of Gorgon's Lace here in Britain, due to repeated abuse; in the States, there are entire farms set up to facilitate the growing and availability of such substances. It has allowed for the original potency to be retained, and has not compromised anyone's sense of propriety."  
  
As expected, Severus nostrils flare and his eyes narrow to slits. Miss Granger straightens her posture, tensing for the storm. "It is a pity then that you have been stuck in the States these past eighteen years, Bena. It seems Britain's potion makers could have profited a great deal had you graced us with your presence earlier."  
  
"You know I was unable to join you before this, Severus." I bite back. Miss Granger has abandoned erect posture for shrinking down as small as she will go. Severus is standing behind her, facing me. I had not wanted to include anyone in this confrontation, but I am riled up enough at the moment not to care.  
  
"Unable, or unwilling? I realize I am not in possession of many charms physical or otherwise, but I had thought the marriage bond would mean something to you." Hermione's eyes widen, her eyes darting to my left hand, then to Severus's, which has lodged itself on the high back of her chair.  
  
"Come now, Severus, say what you wish. After all, there may not be time for this in the evening. It would be better to air any anger you are still holding now." I will force the entire issue now, in front of Miss Granger and whoever else is drawn to the library by our raised voices.  
  
Shaking his head, I worry for a moment he will not rise to the bait. Then, he begins pacing, his head continuing to move from one side to the other. "For eighteen years, Bena, I have played through events in my head. Eighteen years is a long time to feel guilty for one night's indiscretion."  
  
"Indiscretion? You joined the bloody Death Eaters, Severus! You were ordered to kill me! You joined a group of idiots and thugs whose ideals are so contrary to my own that the thought of it makes me ill!" I burst out at him.  
  
"You knew I agreed with the Dark Lord's views before we were married, Bena. You knew I was taken in by the Malfoys and given the chance at a profession. Why was it such a shock that I became one of them?" There is no hurt in his voice, only cold anger.  
  
"I had hoped you would not join for my sake. I held delusions that our love was far greater, far more important, than your thirst for power and the quest for supremacy. In short, I expected you to be better than you were."  
  
"Why?" he asks, his voice suddenly plaintive, "Why would you think I could change what had been pound into me for nineteen years?"  
  
"Because I loved you, Severus. And I thought love was capable of solving everything." My voice pleads.  
  
"It cannot solve me." He returns bitterly.  
  
"It can, and it has, you know." I say softly. His laugh is mirthless.  
  
"No. Not even the great Bena can fill the hole I have dug for myself. Nor would I wish you to. That is my sin and I alone must repay it." I swallow. This is good for us, I silently chant in my mind. This must continue. We must continue to spread this all before us.  
  
"The Dark Lord will be waiting to hear from you tonight, after we have met with Albus and Minerva. He is anxious, and quite displeased that you did not accompany me in the middle of the night last night for a second meeting with him. He will want to know how we can use your relation to Albus to our advantage. The attack is still planned for tomorrow. The niece of Albus Dumbledore can provide almost limitless opportunities for him to capture the boy." Three sharp gasps follow this statement.  
  
Severus and I both curse under our breath. I had completely forgotten about Miss Granger. Our voices appear to have attracted the attention of the other two Gryffindors. Emboldened by our earlier confidence, Mister Potter steps out from the doorway.  
  
"Are you really Dumbeldore's niece?"  
  
I nod my head. Miss Granger gasps again, her eyes as large as saucers now. Severus has closed in upon himself. Slowly, Potter looks to him.  
  
"Professor?" he asks quietly, perhaps kindly.  
  
Severus raises his head, unsure which expression to present. Motioning Harry to continue, the boy takes another step forward, "Professor, I think I should attend the planning tonight. With you, and your wife." He falters a bit over the last part, but Severus does not seem to notice.  
  
Standing, I walk around the table to him. "Thank you, Harry." I say. Mister Potter nods in my direction. I take Severus's arm and lead him firmly out of the library.  
  
This time, when we find ourselves at the entrance to our rooms, he intones the password clearly enough for me to hear. Together we enter the rooms. There is much to discuss. 


	21. Chapter 21

Chapter 21:  
  
At a loss for words once we are seated in our rooms, Severus takes my hand in his, entwining our fingers. He carefully lifts the sleeve of my robe, revealing the unmarred white skin on my left forearm. I mirror the gesture to him, though he holds his breath as I do.  
  
"Never, never do anything to destroy the perfection of this arm." He says sharply, caressing the skin. His touch tickles softly. I reach my hand up to do the same to him, but he pulls his arm away.  
  
"I do not deserve such treatment." He says bitterly. "Kindly do not snort, Bena." He adds.  
  
I ignore both his requests and softly bring my lips to arm, brushing very lightly upon the dark mark. The skin is brittle and rough, as though the pattern was still freshly burned. "What happens if you ignore a summons?" I ask casually.  
  
A dry laugh rumbles in my husband's chest. "I have only once been unable to answer and it was horrible. Be glad he did not require you to take the mark. Your news unnerved him. What shall we do now that the children know?" he changes the subject.  
  
"That is something I wish to leave to Albus. But Albus and Harry Potter is not what I wish to discuss right now, Severus." His arm is still held in my hands; he makes no motion to extricate it.  
  
"What do you wish to talk about, then?" his tone is careful. There is still much anger and hurt to overcome. I hope this afternoon will heal some of it.  
  
"Severus, I understand that my homecoming has not been easy for either of us, and I realize that we have been through a lot the past few days and that any and all anger you are feeling is entirely justified on my part, but I grow weary of it. I wish to call a truce with you. I am placing myself entirely in your hands. What you think we should do, I will. How you think we should react to Voldemort, I shall. How you think we shall go about handling the attack tomorrow, I will go along with."  
  
Severus regards me quietly, then calls a house elf and requests a small lunch. While waiting, he responds. "I will do my best, Bena. It will not be easy for me. I am unaccustomed to sharing anything, let alone my rooms, and my life, with anyone. I am adjusting."  
  
Gesturing to the corner where two shelves of my books reside, "Yes, you have, Severus. I have been adjusting as well. I have had eighteen years to ponder our lives." Now is the time to tell him about Remus, I decide. Knowing the direction the confrontation with Voldemort could take, I need to tell him things.  
  
"Severus, I begin cautiously, "after I fled to the States, Albus was able to place me in a job with the congress. One of my duties was to keep updates on the certain dark creatures and their movements within the States." Severus nods, showing he is following along. I sigh inwardly and continue on. "During that time, I came into contact with a classmate of yours and we, we...." I wave my hands uselessly, unable to commit to words my act of betrayal.  
  
"You and the werewolf had an affair." He says.  
  
I try hard not to spit out the mouthful of pumpkin juice. Swallowing is followed by sputtering, but I cannot find any words.  
  
Severus has closed in on himself again. His eyes are downcast; he has wrapped his arms close around him. I feel tears fall from my eyes. I sit there, away from him on the sofa, the space far between us. I cannot atone for this.  
  
"Severus," I begin feebly, but he cuts me off.  
  
"Bena, you do not need to apologize for this. I have kidnapped, beaten, tortured and killed, all in the name of Voldemort. I think that you may be allowed an indiscretion almost two decades ago. It has not resumed, has it?"  
  
"No, Severus, no!" I hasten to assure him. Relief is flooding through me, though I still feel guilt.  
  
"Bena," he says, pulling me close, "I may have been faithful, but I committed atrocities. We neither of us are innocent. We neither of us are without sin."  
  
I am taken aback. I throw myself into his arms, laughing in sheer liberation. He joins me, a deep throaty laugh. We are healing. The feel of him suddenly under me brings other emotions to mind and we are momentarily distracted from our catharsis by even more enjoyable activities.  
  
Later, in the early evening, the plates from lunch cleared, we are settling ourselves once again on the couch, smiles on both our faces. In the fast and furious pace, not to mention the hurt feelings and revelations, of the past few days, we have been neglectful of the pleasures of married life. Now that they are out of the way for at least the next few hours, it is back to business.  
  
"How are your plans for Snape Manor coming along?" he asks sardonically.  
  
"I have not had much time to devote to that matter, however, I have sent an owl to the ministry and I did discuss the matter with Narcissa. However, with Lucius out of Azkaban, it will require a bit more maneuvering."  
  
"Bena, do not distract yourself with this."  
  
I pat him on the shoulder, "I shall not, Severus. But I will continue with it. Severus, can you imagine it—a house again, a manor. You and I, we can erase generations of history. It will be wonderful."  
  
Rather than a face of jubilation, my husband instead looks reserved. "Bena," he begins, "there is one problem with this. I know nothing of being a proper gentleman. Will you teach me?"  
  
"Yes, Severus, I shall. In the meantime, however, we must plan for Voldemort, and that, I'm afraid, will require much concentration. Are we together?" I ask.  
  
"Yes, dear Bena, we have much to get past, but, trust you I do and love you I will always. Come, Albus is waiting."  
  
====== Author's Notes  
  
Rosalinde: Gracious thanks for the compliment. This weekend I had to reread all the chapters and find all the little clues I'd planted...sheesh I'd forgotten some of them.  
  
Lilypurewhite: well, Severus didn't freak, but I think its still a believable reaction.  
  
Jenia94: as you can see (if you are still reading) she didn't get the mark...Severus is adament about her keeping herself out of the DE  
  
Author's notes  
  
Planning with Albus,, meeting with Voldemort 


	22. Chapter 22

Chapter 22:  
  
I still do not feel as though I have explained myself fully to Severus, but night is growing. We amble our way to Albus' office. Reaching the griffin, we are hailed from behind by Harry Potter. He is dressed smartly, in dark trousers and a deep green jumper.  
  
Severus raises an eyebrow at the ensemble, but I smile and greet him with a hand on his shoulder. All three of us ride the moving staircase in silence. Severus raps smartly on the door to Albus' office. Minerva opened the door and motioned them in.  
  
Albus has not yet descended from his rooms. I can tell Severus is uneasy that Potter managed his way into the meeting. Though I would be among the first to agree, I feel it must be acknowledged that Potter is no longer a boy.  
  
At seventeen he is still young, but his life experience is extraordinaire. He has faced the current embodiment of evil six times and survived. I marvel at that fact. I have faced this incarnation only once, and found myself kneeling in the name of self-preservation. Albus is right to love this young man. I only hope it will be enough.  
  
I have been around him long enough to notice he is fully aware of his separate calling. Though Albus vehemently denies it, I side with Severus that Potter has spent the past few years trained as a weapon. It is part and parcel of the deal. I should know. I have been raised for the same objective. Sadly, for both of us, time is running out.  
  
Once we are settled, with bowls of steaming stew in our hands, Albus makes his appearance. Fawkes alights from his post to land on my uncle's shoulder. I realize, looking around, that everyone in this room, knows I am a Dumbledore.  
  
True, Severus and I have not yet had our fight about this fact, but everyone present has acknowledged it. Albus further enforces this by placing a strong hand on my shoulder and kissing my cheek in a very avuncular fashion.  
  
There are intriguing dynamics at play in this room. I believe everyone, save myself, is torn equally between at least two other people.  
  
I settle myself further into the armchair and begin to eat the stew, Beef Burgundy, I note. Excellent. Everyone follows suit, and for a few minutes we are quiet, munching softly. I clear my mind during the meal, knowing the moments of quiet are coming to and end shortly.  
  
Too soon, Albus magics away the dirty dishes, replacing it with a coffee and tea service. Severus, who is sitting in the chair next to me, leans forward to prepare coffee. I am surprised, as I have noticed my husband does not drink the beverage much favored by the Yanks, of which I have come to be counted with. I watch as he adds one cream and one half sugar. He hands it to me, and smiles disarmingly at the look of astonishment on my face. He knows the way I take my coffee.  
  
It is obvious by the amount of pleasure I derive from this that I am still adjusting to the trivialities of married life. Severus prepares himself tea, and I am careful to take note of the one cream and touch of honey he adds.  
  
"I'm afraid it is time to begin." Albus says strongly. "Severus, would you mind starting?" he asks.  
  
"The attack on Hogwarts has been in place for quite some time. The release of Lucius Malfoy was the final step. Knowing Fudge is still the Minister, despite all the Order's attempts, and that Fudge still purposely ignorant of Malfoy's involvement with the Dark Lord, has allowed the final pieces to fall into place. They have a way in. They will attempt to take Potter. If successful, he will be taken back to the cellar chambers of Riddle Mansion." He intones.  
  
"How will they get into Hogwarts?" Potter demands.  
  
"That is not your concern, Potter." Severus replies icily.  
  
"Severus." Albus says warningly.  
  
"Headmaster," says Severus, standing, "I am perfectly willing to discuss this matter you or Minerva, but I do not feel students should be involved in the planning of such delicate matters."  
  
"Harry is not just a student, Severus, you admit readily to that. Considering the role he is to play tomorrow, I feel it necessary for him to be present this evening."  
  
Severus is momentarily silenced. I agree with Albus.  
  
"At what time is the attack planned?" Minerva asks, cutting to the heart of the matter. Her eyes are gleaming in the firelight. Normally, she is reserved and quite willing to be Albus' shadow of strength and support. Now, however, knowing Albus is there and quite capable himself, she is positively glowing at the idea of open battle.  
  
"High noon." Severus drawls.  
  
My mouth twitches. The image of Severus in leather chaps, ready for a showdown flits through my mind. Eighteen years in the country that invented westerns was too many, as I chastise myself. Sobering back down, I ask the next question.  
  
"Where will they be entering the castle from?"  
  
"From the dungeons. You are expected to be with them." That surprises me.  
  
"Me?"  
  
"Yes. Your loyalty will be proven by allowing Malfoy access to Potter." I turn to Albus, fervently hoping he will condemn the plan. No such proclaimnent issues from his lips.  
  
"Very well, here is how we shall prepare." Albus says, rubbing his hands together. The rest of us lean forward and we set about planning. We do not leave the Headmaster's office until the wee hours, when, very weary, we all trudge off for a few hours necessary rest. 


	23. Chapter 23

Chapter 23:  
  
I am asleep the moment my head hits the pillow. Too soon, Severus is rousing me from sleep. Opening my left eye first, I look immediately to the window.  
  
"It isn't light out yet, Severus. I am not getting up." I have never been good at doing without sleep, and I do not feel I have received one night's proper rest since I arrived.  
  
"Obviously." Severus sneers. "A summons from the Dark Lord rarely presents itself at opportune times. Get dressed." He snarls, throwing my robe at me. Severus, I must note, seems quite capable of going days with nothing but a few scant hours of rest. Of course, having a snarky disposition probably helps. It is difficult to be pleasant when one is exhausted.  
  
My body protesting, joined by my mouth, I get up. While in the process of buttoning up my robe, Severus bursts back into the rooms. "Now, Bena. We have already delayed five minutes. Does the idea of 'apparate immediately to his side' have no bearing on you?"  
  
I stare at him in amazement. "My apologies, Severus. I am ready."  
  
"Good. Follow me." He exits the room; I stumble sleepily after him.  
  
"Severus, we cannot apparate on school grounds. How are we going to get there?" I ask, struggling to catch up with his the brisk pace he has set. We are heading down the hallway from the dungeons, but in the opposite direction from the classrooms and stairs to the main hall.  
  
As we continue, I realize we are lowering in elevation. The walls are moist, and moss appears. We continue walking. Soon enough, we are out of the school, in a dirt tunnel of some sort. A few more meters and we reappear above ground. Turning in a circle, I see the front gates to Hogwarts 20 meters to my left.  
  
"A tunnel?" I say incredulously. "This is how they're going to enter? Remarkably unguarded. How could Albus allow it to exist?"  
  
"This tunnel has existed for centuries, but was forgotten and overgrown until I needed to make use of it. In order to apparate quickly enough the Dark Lord, Albus allows me use of this tunnel. It speeds arrival to Hogsmeade by fifteen minutes. It is password guarded, and, if you look back, I doubt you will be able to see tell from where we appeared." Severus explains, dusting dirt off his robes.  
  
I do look back, and find he is correct. There is no indication of there be any sort of entrance in the thick bramble that covers the ground. I am again surprised at the wonders of Hogwarts. Turning my attention back to my husband, I shudder as he pulls his mask from his sleeve and slips it on.  
  
"Come, Bena." He offers me his arm. "Showtime." He adds sardonically. Together we disapparate.  
  
Immediately we reappear in an unfamiliar clearing. Severus immediately leaves my side to take his place in the circle. I am left, incredibly vulnerable in the center of the circle. I did not notice where Severus walked to, and am discomforted to find I cannot discern his presence among the group.  
  
I have no such problem identifying Lucius, as he strides forward, drawling loudly, so everyone can hear. "And so you did have the courage to return. Tell me, Dumbledore," I cringe that the first correct use of my name is coming from this vile excuse of a wizard, "does your uncle suspect anything?"  
  
"Of course he does, you idiot." I outright insult him. I have sparred verbally with Lucius on several occasions. I am too tired and terrified to partake in just now. Realizing how twisted it is that I am hoping Voldemort will interrupt; I sweep my gaze around the circle.  
  
Voldemort steps forward from the shadows. "Apparently Bena does not wish to play, Lucius. Never mind. There will be time enough later." The hairs on the back on my neck raise, wondering exactly what game Lucius wishes to play. There is, however, no time to ponder that now.  
  
I bow low to Voldemort as he approaches me. He comes to rest inches from my lowered head. I steel my mind, swallow the bile that has risen in my throat and kiss the hems of his robes. "My Lord," I simper.  
  
"Bena." He whispers, bringing a long, scaly finger under my chin and raising my face to his. "How good of you to come."  
  
Turning to the rest of the gathered Death Eaters, he begins to speak, leaving me still vulnerable in the center of the circle. "My friends, as you are all aware, we have a new ally. This day, at noon, a small band of my most loyal followers will enter Hogwarts. Harry Potter is currently there, relatively unprotected. With the assistance of the Old Fool's great niece, we will capture the boy and return here. Then," he stopped, rubbing his hands together, "the fun shall begin."  
  
I am very thankful that part of the tutelage I received under my uncle was rigorous training of Occlumency. I have a hard time keeping emotion from overtaking me at the thought of any child, let alone the gangly youth I have recently befriended, in the clutches of this hoodlum.  
  
Laughter is heard all around the circle. "Be expecting a summons tomorrow evening, my friends. You may go. Severus, Lucius, MacNair, all of you stays." One by one, the masked wizards disappear with a crack, to go back to their homes.  
  
MacNair. I remember the name, though I can't remember why. Lucius brings himself even with me and removes his mask. He brings his mouth to my ear, "I do not trust you, dear Bena. I am watching you. One false move, and you shall be gone. Dumbledores, disowned or not, do not allow little children to be captured and killed."  
  
I shiver once, to show him the message is received. "I understand, Lucius. However, you forget that though I may be a Dumbledore by blood, I am a Snape by marriage. Have faith in me, Lucius, and you may be surprised."  
  
He steps back and nods. "I shall watch, Bena. This will be fun."  
  
Voldemort eyes the four of us. "Severus, you may return to Hogwarts. Tell Dumbledore nothing. I called you this late to ensure you would be alone. I trust no one knows of your absence?"  
  
"No one, my lord." Severus intones.  
  
"Good. Your only instruction is to be ready to admit us. It will be only the four of us. During the battle, I want you to stay out of sight. Be out on the grounds. I do not wish Dumbledore to know of your active involvement in this. Best let him think I found the key to the wards on my own. You have mentioned you have potions ingredients to collect?"  
  
"Yes, my lord. I will remove myself from the castle."  
  
"Very good. You may go. The rest of us have much to discuss." Severus looks to me. I had not known I would be left behind. I open my mouth to protest, but a look from Severus silences me. He nods and disapparates.  
  
"Now, my friends," Voldemort nearly cackles. "Let us begin the fun." 


	24. Chapter 24

Chapter 24:  
  
The fun did indeed begin, though it was of a more chauvinistic nature than I am used to suffering through. It began with planning for the coming attack, but then involved mainly sitting through tedious competitions of who was more man than the other. Fortunately, Voldemort sat through this in as much silence as me; the competition stayed between Lucius and MacNair.  
  
If I have expressed revulsion from Lucius Malfoy, I currently feel repulsion at MacNair. I have never met an individual so intent upon causing bodily harm to others. After an hour, thankfully, MacNair's trick knee began acting up, and he stood to take a short walk.  
  
We are still in the clearing; Voldemort summoned stools for us to rest upon. Voldemort sets himself to pacing, leaving me alone with Lucius. By now, I am fatigued beyond acceptance. I fall asleep on the stool, my chin falling onto my chest every few seconds.  
  
"Bena!" Lucius says sharply. I shake my head and look up at him through bleary eyes.  
  
"Yes, Lucius?" I say slowly.  
  
"Will you be able to stay awake for the attack?" he hisses.  
  
"That depends, Lucius." I begin.  
  
"On what?" he interrupts."  
  
"Manners, Lucius." I scold him. Seeing his temper flare, I continue, "it depends on whether or not I am allowed sleep now. I have been deprived of it since I arrived at Hogwarts."  
  
Lucius looks at me carefully. I expound on my point, examining my fingernails. "It appears my husband was faithful to me all these years in terms of the marriage bed. There was been much catching up to do over the past week. Severus is, I'm afraid, quite insatiable." I let a small smile fall upon my lips.  
  
It may be an exaggeration, but I do not think Severus will mind. Lucius huffs himself into silence, for which I am grateful. As I sit there, I feel myself fall asleep.  
  
Too soon Lucius again interrupts my sleep. In my irritation I bite out, "Lucius, how is it you have the Minister of Magic eating from the palm of your hand? From what I can see your manners are deplorable and you have lost the charm and wit you once posessed."  
  
Lucius smiles wickedly, "Cornelius has no spine whatsoever."  
  
I roll my eyes. "So, Imperius? Or something less expected? Or, perhaps our dear Minister is a loyal Death Eater?" Lucius and I have a long- developed mutual dislike of one another, so my sneering questions draw no untoward reaction from him, though I must be certain no one else hears the questions, or they may draw unwanted attention my way.  
  
"Oh no, no." Lucius chuckles, "Fudge is more than willing to do my bidding simply because I ask."  
  
"Why? Now that he has acknowledged the Dark Lord is back, wouldn't it be better for him not to show you support?" I admit I have been confused by this detail since Remus showed me the headline in the Daily Prophet.  
  
"The Minister recognizes the importance of pure-blood wizards. As the patriarch of one of those Wizarding families, he recognizes the importance of my being freed from Azkaban." He says, quite pleased with himself.  
  
I know that is not the only reason, but it is the only one I will get out of him for the moment. I am still exhausted. My mind is filled with whirling images from the past few hours. I am desperately trying to remember what it was Albus told me during our planning session. My eyes are closed.  
  
Soon enough I open them, only to find myself in Malfoy Manor. I am wearing different robes as well. They are purple. There are two women fussing about me, Ormana Snape and Narcissa Malfoy. They are pruning and preening my hair. I do nothing to stop them.  
  
It's a dream, I realize. Odd. I feel very detached from myself. Almost as though I am a separate entity in the room. I step back and watch myself being prepared for my wedding. In two minutes, exactly as I remember, the two women leave me. Moments later, a knock is heard on the door.  
  
Albus enters. I smile brightly at him. He returns my enthusiasm. "My dear." He greets me. You are resplendent." My smile widens.  
  
"Now," he continues soberly. "do not become angry with me. As your guardian I must ask this. Are you certain you wish to marry Severus?" he holds up a hand to stem the protests streaming from my lips, "I ask only because over the past few months you have come to me with increasing frequency because of problems between you and Severus. You clash so violently in your ideals. Severus is bound and determined to follow Voldemort, you know."  
  
I smile, but say with resolution, "Yes, I know uncle. But I love him. It is only a temporary problem. Soon enough, Severus will see the error of his beliefs and we will be fine."  
  
The nod Albus gives shows he does not agree, but he keeps his silence. "Then love be upon you." He blesses me and leaves the room. I glance to the clock on the table. Five minutes until I am required to be downstairs.  
  
Another soft knock is head, but this time the door opens to allow Lucius. I quickly hide my grimace and smile cloyingly at him. "Hummell." He greets me tersely.  
  
"Lucius. I must again thank you for the graciousness of your family. Allowing Severus and I..." but my insincere gushing is halted.  
  
"None of that, Bena. You and I both know you despise me. That is fine. However, you make Severus less morose than he is wont when left to his own devices. His services will be in demand soon enough. You and I both know he is far more productive when in a good mood. That is the reason, and the only reason" his voice lowers, "that I am allowing this wedding to continue. Are you ready?"  
  
I nod, silent. He offers me his arm, and I grudgingly take it. Lucius, in sad irony, is to give me away, my parents not being allowed to come to the ceremony. I walk down the hallway and main stairs of the grandiose manor; I can hear the voices of guests wafting up from downstairs. I feel my spirits sink to know none of my friends are present.  
  
Lucius turns to me and says "Now, Bena, is the time. If you are ready, we shall begin."  
  
I cock my head in confusion. That is not what I remember him saying. He grabs my shoulder; again, not from my memory. Another voice is heard, louder this time, and I shake my head. Present-day Lucius is standing over me, peering exasperatedly at me. It is light out.  
  
"And she is awake." Lucius drawls. "Get up. It is time to go."  
  
I freeze to the spot. I must not let them sense my fear. Fear is the mind- killer. I close my eyes briefly, and Albus' plan comes flooding back on the inside of my eyelids, his warm gentle face filling my view.  
  
I open my eyes, feeling calm, and join the three men. I take Lucius' arm and we disapparate. We are now outside the gates of Hogwarts, where Severus and I appeared from below ground a few hours ago. Searching quickly, we find the entrance.  
  
About fifty feet in, Lucius, in the lead, stops. "What is it?" MacNair whispers. I arch my back as I feel Voldemort's warm breath on the back of my neck. Silently chanting to Lucius to continue moving, I almost miss his answer.  
  
"Severus said there would be a breeze in the tunnel. I do not feel one." The four of us still all movement and breath. Finally, a soft breeze is felt. I collapse my shoulders in relief. The absence of breeze meant one of the wards had been triggered. It meant Albus and Severus were aware of our presence and had reset the wards.  
  
We continue on. When we finally approach the wooden door that leads to Hogwarts proper, we again halt. "Now what?" MacNair says impatiently.  
  
A cold voice is heard in my ear. "We wait." 


	25. Chapter 25

Chapter 25:  
  
I am bored.  
  
We have been sitting in the dark, dank tunnel now for close to an hour.   
  
I repeat, I am bored.  
  
That last sentiment must have been aloud, for Lucius snorts, McNair hushes me, and the Dark Lord, in none of his glory, agrees with me.  
  
I find it odd that the most feared wizard in the world is content to lean against a dirt-walled poorly lit tunnel, waiting for the signal from a servant who has proven himself unworthy, all for the chance to throw the killing curse at a seventeen year-old boy. Not to mention that this particular boy has already avoided the killing curse.   
  
I turn my head to look at my supposed lord and master. His eyes are closed, his nostrils flaring and his tongue flicking in and out of his mouth, as though he is able to taste and smell everything around him. The skin, which is barely visibly in the tunnel is stretched far across the broad face.   
  
It is an ugly face. All intelligence and charisma this wizard once possessed has eroded into madness and misplaced cunning. I know that years ago, when he was still mostly an orator on his way to becoming a politician, he was quite persuasive in his speeches. Severus took me to see him. By the end of the emotional speech I was quite drawn in. Fortunately then, as now, the drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy brought me to my senses.  
  
"It is time. There is the signal from Severus. He will remain in his rooms, which we will seal from the outside. That way, the Old Fool cannot actually blame him for the attack." Lucius' comment is met with chuckles from all but me.  
  
We move on, walking swiftly. The click of our boots on the dungeon floors echo loudly. As we pass Severus' door, Voldemort places a long fingered hand on my sleeve. "It would be best if you left the locking charm. Your magic will not cause a disturbance." I give a strong swish of my wand and we continue on. I have locked Severus in very well. I doubt even if it had the desire to leave he could.  
  
As we cross the stone steps, my uncle's voice is heard from the top of the steps.  
  
"You were not invited, Tom. I am willing, however, to allow you and those with you to leave immediately with no harm coming to any of you." he is magnificent. All his power is around him. I spy Minerva and Remus in the shadows behind him. I have not yet spotted Harry, but I know he is here, somewhere, to serve as bait at the critical moment.  
  
Voldemort looks up at Albus, his red eyes flashing. "This does not concern you, old man. Where is the boy?"  
  
I think by now, Voldemort understands, to some extent, that they knew we were coming. Whether it was from Severus, me, or the wards that this warning was issued is yet undecided.   
  
Albus remains motionless. Remus shifts his weight slightly. Damn. MacNair lets loose with a curse. It hits Remus full in the chest. He falls. Minerva breaks rank and drops to his side. Determining he is all right, she stands, but in her distraction, Lucius has flung an obscure form of the cruciatus. It hits her. A strangled cry escapes her throat and she joins Remus on the floor.   
  
I feel angry energy from behind me left, in the direction of the doors to the main hall. Harry. Dammit, Harry, I mentally scold him. Just a little while longer. Albus descends one step, drawing our attention away from Harry's direction. MacNair attempts a curse, but it merely bounces off Albus, who is pulsating with energy. The curse reflects back on the sadistic bastard, throwing him to the ground, where he remains motionless, but alive.  
  
My eyes lock with my uncle's and we nod minutely to one another. In a flash my wand is out, throwing curse after curse towards Albus. He in return is casting them aside. I transfigure objects in the hall with the speed of summer lightning. He just as quickly spells them in another direction.   
  
There is anger in my eyes, I know, and concentration. Apparently it satisfies the Dark Lord and Lucius, for they soon join me. Good, so far, everything is progressing to plan. I take a step up the stairs, our curses bouncing everywhere.  
  
Quickly, Remus and Minerva stand up, having only been pretending to be injured. They begin to counter the curses. Too soon I hear Harry's voice above the din. Voldemort's attention, along with mine, is drawn to him.   
  
Harry steps out from the shadows, wand raised. Voldemort stays on the bottom step, facing the boy. Behind us, Minerva, Remus, Lucius and MacNair are still battling. Albus has appeared with a swish of robes at Harry's side.  
  
Voldemort stops at the appearance of my uncle. He turns and looks maliciously at me. "Well, well. A surprise, Dumbledore, to see her standing at my side?"  
  
Albus schools his face to remain impassive. "I have yet to see any true proof of any anger directed at me because of you, Tom. I think you would find Bena is willing to attack me because of my past transgressions against her, not because of any true belief in your ideals."  
  
Voldemort turns his eyes on mine. I return his stare with one I hope is equally as cold. He does not say anything. Harry meanwhile, has inched forward. That was not part of the plan. A few more inches and he will be out of the magical barrier Albus constructed for him. My attention is drawn to him and I step forward. At the same moment, a loud cry is heard behind me, I turn my head.  
  
In my distraction, I misstep. Falling down the stairs, I feel a curse rip through my body, coupled with a flash of green light. Then nothing. I feel nothing.  
  
I am dead. 


	26. Chapter 26

Chapter 26:  
  
The nothingness continues for awhile. Being dead, I have no concept of time. Soon, too soon to be honest, I feel as though I am drowning. I feel myself straining against a bubble.  
  
My eyes open. There is light, seen through a thick lens. Swirling lights and sounds enter my area of perception. I hear a voice calling, possibly to me. I hear weeping. I keep swimming up, feeling my lungs ache for breathe. I push to the bubble. Finally, with a soft pop, it bursts, and I find myself in my husbands arms, still on the steps.  
  
Severus is weeping. His face and mine are wet from his tears. That is, most likely, while I thought I was drowning. I can discern moving forms beyond the small world of my husband and me. I give a small cough. Severus freezes.  
  
My eyes close again.  
  
I struggle to open them once more. This time, I have been moved from the steps. I am in the hospital wing. White surrounds me on all sides. I try to move my neck a little. Nothing. I try to lift my arm. Nothing.  
  
Suddenly, AlbusÕ face fills my view. My eyes widen. He reaches a hand to my face. Nothing. Whispered words, then release. I feel the body bind loosen. I lift my head. I bring my hand to rest on top of his.  
  
Moving my tongue around my mouth, I say thickly, ÒAlbus, what happened?Ó  
  
With deliberate slowness, he pats my cheek and sits down on the bed beside me. Pulling a worn paper bag from his robes, he pops a lemon sherbet in his open mouth. He then rests his hands on mine.  
  
ÒMy child, let me tell you a story. The muggles have many religions. One of the more archaic and shrouded in tradition is that of the Roman Catholic Church. The Church has always had priests, bishops and the likes, but also monks. There is one monk in particular whose story I wish to relate to you.Ó Albus is settling in for a long story. I feel myself relax in his presence. I was raised on long stories told to me before bed whenever I visited my uncle. I learned much at his hand, and am very anxious to learn how it is that I came to be alive.  
  
He begins, ÒThere was a monk, Severus the Presbyter, who lived during the sixth century, in central Italy. One day, he was asked to come and perform the Holy Mysteries for a dying man in the village, but Severus, who was tending his vines, told them to go along their way, he would join them soon enough. Severus, however, dallied with the grape vines and by the time he arrived at the home, he was told the man had died. Regarding himself as guilty of the manÕs death, without receiving absolvement, Severus started to tremble and, loudly, he began to weep. He went into the house and held the man in his arms, groaning loudly and calling himself a murderer. In tears, Severus fell down before the body. Suddenly the dead man came alive and related to everyone present that the demons wanted to grab hold his soul, but one of the Angels said: ÔGive him back, since over him doth weep Presbyter Severus, and on account of his tears the Lord hath granted him this man.Õ Severus, giving thanks to the Lord, confessed and communed the resuscitated man with the Holy Mysteries. And that man in constant prayer survived for yet another 7 days, and then with joy reposed to the Lord.Ó Albus finishes his tale and sits quietly, allowing me to digest it.  
  
ÒSo, SeverusÕ tears saved me? Albus, I do not believe in the Roman Catholic God. Neither does Severus. Why would their God grant us this miracle?Ó I am fully aware of the dogma of the Catholic Church, as well as that of several other religions. Living amongst muggles in the States made me very aware of them, but I am at a loss to explain this.   
  
ÒWe cannot predict where the Spirit will dance, my dear. As you lay in SeverusÕ arms, you awoke and cried out. You had been hit with the killing curse minutes before. Severus was unable to come to your side earlier. Once he did, he wept for forgiveness.  
  
Bena, You know I believe names are remarkably important. Your name, for instance, is Hebrew. Now, tell me, why would an old, established family of wizards want a Hebrew name for their heir, when none of them can trace their lineage back to the Hebrews?Ó Albus asks.  
  
Inwardly, the little strength I have groans. I had not wanted a history lesson. Dutifully, however, I drudge up the information, after all, heÕs already quoted the muggle theologian Rahner, ÒBecause of the meaning. My name means ÔWiseÕ in Hebrew. You wanted to manipulate the prophecy.Ó   
  
Albus nods. ÒWhat is the significance of your husbandÕs name?Ó Another sigh.  
  
ÒSeverus, according to his parents, was named for the Roman general stationed in Britain in ____ of the Common Era. What his parents did not remember in naming him,was that although the generalÕs full name was Lucius Severus Septimus, making it a desirable name, the general combined forces with another Britain-stationed general, Albinus ______. Together they forced out an unpopular and rather evil dictator.Ó Albus made me research SeverusÕ name the afternoon after we returned from Hogsmeade when I had first met him. He seems pleased I remember it all.  
  
ÒMy dear, I know you are tired. We none of us are sure what you have gone through. But, before Poppy throws me handily from the room, what do you remember?Ó He leans forward, anxious to hear my story. There is deep worry in his fathomless blue eyes.  
  
I close my eyes to collect my thoughts and begin as far back as I find relevant. ÒI remember Harry stepping into the boundary of the shield. I remember stepping toward him in an effort to tell him to move back again. I remember MinervaÕs voice, clear as day, crying in pain. I twisted my head to look and fell as my foot missed the step.Ó   
  
By now, my voice is a dry recitation, ÒI remember, while falling, seeing your face, and VoldemortÕs locked on mine. My body trembled. Some sort of energy force hit me, knocking the wind out of me. All my eyes saw was a bright, very bright flash of green light all around me. Then, everything went dark. I, Albus, I remember thinking I was dead. It was odd. Disconnected. I floated there for awhile.Ó  
  
I am twisting my hands in my lap as I recall my experience. I still do not know how much time has elapsed since I fell. ÒThere was nothing in the void. No light, no dark, nothing. I was not in my body. I remember waking, with Severus, on the steps. Then I remember waking here.Ó  
  
ÒThat is all?Ó he asks, clearly not satisfied. I search my memories, slowly, something comes into my mindÕs eye, but it is too foolish to tell him.  
  
I know he wants more, but I cannot give it to him. I am too tired. I shake my head from side to side.  
  
ÒMy dear, I will leave you to yourself. I expect you will have visitors in the near future, if Poppy allows it. I will allow you some time to rest.Ó he exits in a soft rustling of robes, humming to himself.  
  
We wizards and witches are not a religious lot, though some do follow muggle religion. Others stay involved in the old ways. Severus, for example, finds much value in the ways of La Vecchia Religione, the Old Religion, of the Stregheria, the name for ancient witchcraft in Italy. They focus heavily on earth magic, which Severus finds helpful for potion making. I remember Remus being very infuenced by the lore and religion of the Native Americans during his stay in the States with me, most likely because they honored animals, especially wolves.   
  
I have never delved much into religion, though I have been exposed to loads of it through Albus. This experience may be caused by the Others, what wizards call angels and demons and spirits that work in miraculous and mysterious ways. It gives me something else for my much-abused mind to think about.   
  
For the time being, however, I much prefer to rest.   
  
---------  
  
AuthorÕs Notes:  
  
This Saint Severus is a real Catholic saint, one of about three with the name. I liked this story best. Rahner, which Dumbledore paraphrases, is Carl Rahner, a modern theologian my husband is writing a term paper about for grad school. He and I were talking about this chapter and he offered up the line...which is ÒWe cannot tell where the Spirit will danceÓ, which refers to non-Christians receiving miracles from Jesus, or God or etc. (BTW--this is RahnerÕs belief-I donÕt wish to offend anyone...that is the furthest thing from my mind in writing this) 


	27. Chapter 27

Chapter 27:  
  
The next time I open my eyes there is a dark-haired figure slumped, asleep, in the chair next to my bed. I turn my stiff neck slightly. It is Harry Potter. Giving a small snort, I raise myself up to sitting and push on his shoulder gently to wake him.  
  
Slowly he rouses himself, flashing me a brilliantly wry smile when he sees I am awake. "None of us thought you would make it."  
  
I cannot think of anything to say, as I had thought the same thing. "Dumbledore asked me to sit with you until Snape...Professor Snape," he corrects himself, "gets back."  
  
I furrow my brow. "Where is he?" I have not seen Severus since the bubble burst on the steps. I realize I still do not know how long it has been since that moment. Not waiting for his answer to my first question, "Harry, how long has it been since I, since the attack?"  
  
He looks quite surprised. "You don't know?" He straightens himself in the chair.  
  
"Ah, no. Albus and I never got around to discussing it earlier." I admit.  
  
"It's only been about ten hours. You woke up straight away on the steps, and then the Headmaster said you woke a few hours after that. It's midnight, or close to it."  
  
I nod, indicating I've heard. "How did Severus come to me on the steps? I locked him in his rooms, very securely."  
  
Harry looks at me. I can see him struggle with his dislike of Severus and his like of me. I win out, most likely because I am looking pathetic and forlorn in my hospital bed. "He wasn't in his rooms. He was out on the grounds. Gathering things, I guess. After you fell, Voldemort and the others left immediately. They looked almost scared. Dumbledore called Snape in from outside. You, Snape, I, I just don't understand what happened, Bena." He finishes, his hands in the air.  
  
"Either do I, Harry. But, you were raised by muggles, am I right?" I ask, desperate for someone other than Albus to discuss this with. He nods.  
  
I continue "Albus said it was a miracle, of the muggle variety." He stays quiet, regarding me carefully.  
  
"I still don't understand." He confesses.  
  
"I don't either, Harry. But, that is what Albus says. And I must admit I'm at a loss, so, for right now, that remains the explanation."  
  
"Do you believe in God?" he asks me. I cock my head, thinking carefully before I answer.  
  
"No. But neither do I not believe in him. I was raised by wizards. Muggles, Christians specifically, find magic from their god and we, I mean I, find magic everywhere. I don't think I qualify as a pagan either. Witchcraft is not a religion to me. It is not something I practice. It is not something I follow. It is what I am. I am a witch. Does that make sense to you?" I ask, peering very carefully at him.  
  
He nods. Changing subjects, as the discomfort is obvious to us both, he asks, "How do you feel?"  
  
I take a moment to consider. "I don't know." Another brilliant smile. Ah, when he has the time to devote to girls, he will be a heartbreaker, as his father and godfather before him. "I feel fine, Harry. But, yet, not. I feel very weak. I will probably fall asleep again soon enough."  
  
"Would you like some water? Madame Pomfrey left out a pitcher. She also said if you were hungry to summon a house elf." He smiles again. I am surprised the young man can have this much energy after this afternoon's events.  
  
"Where are Ms. Granger and Mr. Weasley?" I know it is odd for him to be without his companions.  
  
"Asleep. I couldn't settle down—too much energy pulsing through me, so I've been up all night. I came in here, to check on you, and Snape- Professor Snape-asked me to sit with you for awhile." He shrugs his shoulders.  
  
I hear a small scraping of the door at the far end opening; Harry does not, so I make no notice of it. "Did he seem agitated?" I ask.  
  
"No more than usual." Seeing my small grin, he continues, "He's always annoyed to see me, but he seemed to be trying to be pleasant. He loves you." Harry says sharply.  
  
I nod mutely. "He cried when he saw you on the steps. We all just froze and watched. He crumpled to the ground and wept. I didn't think, I mean, I never thought..." Harry waves his hands uselessly.  
  
Unfortunately, Severus takes this moment to jump in, "You never thought the greasy git could have feeling, eh, Potter?" I shake my head, recognizing the moment of reconciliation between the two of them has again fled.  
  
I cough, hoping to draw their attention back to me. It works. Harry looks down at his feet and mumbles that he ought go, but, before turning to leave, he leans down and gives me a chaste kiss on my cheek. Stunned by this gesture, he is nearly out the door before I can recover enough to call out a thank you.  
  
Severus sits at my side. I contemplate ignoring him, but there is too much to discuss. So much in fact, that, faced with one another, we are at a loss to begin.  
  
"Thank you." I say, inadequately.  
  
Severus nods. "I didn't try to do anything."  
  
"I know. Thank you just the same."  
  
"Albus told me about the saint. Do you think that explains it?"  
  
"I can think of nothing else that comes close." I admit.  
  
"It doesn't make sense." Severus reasons.  
  
"I don't think it's supposed to." I offer.  
  
We sit in silence a while longer, the quiet sounds of the castle filling the cavernous expanses of the hospital wing. Finally, Severus exits the chair and joins me in my too small bed. A quiet swish of his wand and it expanded. We fall asleep, entwined together, both of us looking for answers, neither of us getting them.  
  
================  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Thanks for all the lovely reviews and I ask for your patience until mid- June...I'll be working 60-70 hours a week, 7 days a week until then. I attempt to update once a week, never longer than a week and a half, so bear with me. Thank you thank you. Less than a month to PoA in the US!!!!! 


	28. Chapter 28

Chapter 28:  
  
I awake only when I feel Severus shift positions. Slowly my eyes open. I lay there, awake, feeling every inch of my skin. I carefully flex all my muscles in turn, beginning with my toes. They are all there, and, more importantly, all functional.  
  
Having worked my way up to my forehead, which is currently covered in wrinkles, I smile when I hear my husband's voice cut through the quiet.  
  
"Had I known that forehead would be so covered in wrinkles this early in life, I may have been less enthusiastic to bind myself to you for eternity." Severus has turned towards me, eyeing my muscular progress with skepticism.  
  
"Had I known your left forearm would sport such an ugly mark, I might have been more reticent myself." Fortunately, he takes this as lightly as it was meant and is not offended. He kisses me lightly on the cheek and rises. At my protest, he reaches his index finger down to brush my cheek.  
  
"Dumbledore will want to know how things went last night." He says brusquely.  
  
"What things, Severus?" I ask immediately.  
  
He intakes a breath sharply and squares off to me. "I was summoned last night. I have not yet spoken to Albus about it."  
  
"Is there much to report?" I ask, apprehensive of his answer.  
  
"No. The Dark Lord is furious that this plan did not work, but he does not blame me. Or you, for that matter." Some small relief, I note.  
  
"Who does he blame?" I ask warily.  
  
"As of last night, no one. He simply considers there to have been flaws in the plan. MacNair received the brunt of the Dark Lord's wrath. He was, after the all, the one who cast the killing curse, though I believe he was aiming for Minerva." Severus is examining his hands, picking at a piece of sticking plaster on his right thumb; he has been brewing.  
  
"How is Minerva?" I ask.  
  
"She is fine. Both she and the werewolf sustained only superficial wounds. Albus and Potter were not injured at all. Lucius took a nasty hit to the chest and is still recovering. MacNair was not injured during battle, but has since found swallowing a little difficult." He answers.  
  
I do not want to know the details of MacNair's injury, though I have a general idea of which curse was used; nasty little bugger which leaves the recipient unable to talk for close to a week.  
  
"I must go, Bena. I hope, if Poppy allows it, that you would move back to our rooms when you leave here." Severus leaves in a swirl of robes, leaving me alone again.  
  
Not for long. Poppy bustles out from her office. She picks up my left hand, feeling for my pulse. Tsking me for some unknown reason, she clucks her tongue against her teeth. "I suppose I shall allow you to go. But, you must remain in bed, and drink plenty of fluids, and not lift anything over five kilos, and do not use magic unless absolutely necessary, and-  
  
"-Poppy, I'm only going to be in the dungeons. Don't worry so much." I interrupt her. She sighs and sits next to me on the bed.  
  
"My apologies, Bena. I simply do not know how to deal with this. I have only ever dealt with one other wizard to survive the killing curse, and he was a baby when I nursed him to health." The mediwitch looks very distraught at finding herself unable to effectively treat me.  
  
I pat her hand affectionately and rise slowly from the bed. Poppy holds a hand out to steady me, which I accept gratefully. I carefully make my way to the door, taking small steps. Nodding to Poppy, I exit the hospital wing.  
  
I grip the stones of the wall along the corridor as I slowly make progress towards the dungeons.  
  
"Professor?" I hear a young make voice from the shadows. A pale boy steps out. "Blaise Zabini", Slytherin, I drag up from my memory. The boy nods.  
  
"Do you need some help, Professor?" he asks. I nod. He takes an arm to support me and we continue along.  
  
"What are you doing out so early this morning, Mr. Zabini?" I ask, hoping to sound friendly.  
  
"Just wandering. I wasn't allowed out yesterday. They didn't tell me why at the time, though I understand now. They told me, rather, I overheard that you...you..."  
  
I wait for him to continue. When he does not, I supply the unfinished sentence. "Survived 'Avada Kedavra'."  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I did."  
  
"Oh." He pauses. "How?"  
  
Chuckling softly I answer, "I do not know, my dear young man. How did you come to hear of it?"  
  
"I overheard Granger and Weasley talking about it in the great hall. Are you really married to Professor Snape?" Well, that at least explains to overt kindness. When a professor is potentially married to one's head of house, it generally is considered in good taste to be kind to them.  
  
"Yes." I affirm.  
  
"Ah."  
  
I smile. Zabini appears to enjoy mono-syllabic sentences. I will indulge him. "Do you support the Dark Lord, Blaise?"  
  
"No." there is no question in the young Slytherin's answer. Knowing this could very well be a test, I tread carefully forward.  
  
"Truly?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
This is becoming ridiculous. Fortunately, he seems to agree with me and elaborates on his last answer. "I do not see why someone deserves to be punished or tortured or killed because of something they have no control over, like their blood. Besides, it doesn't seem to affect someone's magical abilities."  
  
He is warming to the subject. I trod on, homing in on my front door. "After all, Granger, though a mudblood, is the brightest witch in school. And Crabbe and Goyle are old purebloods, but they can barely scrape a pass in potions, which is a given for any Slytherin."  
  
I smile at the injustice of my husband's favoritism, though I know it to be well-founded. I also choose to ignore the slur about the brightest witch at Hogwarts, knowing it is not meant in any truly personal way. We are at my door. I thank Blaise, who insists that if, in the future I require his assistance, I must call upon him immediately, and enter my rooms.  
  
Severus is not back yet, so I settle myself upon the sofa and pick up a tome of mythology Severus had on the table. There is a tray of tea sent up by the house elves, so I settle in and feel myself gain strength. After all, this was only the first battle. 


	29. Chapter 29

Chapter 29:  
  
I am in the middle of my second cup of tea, with my cup in one hand and a half-eaten muffin in the other, when the door swings open and Severus furiously strides in. He throws a book into the chair next to me, and struggles angrily to get out of his outer robes.  
  
I sit quietly as he beings to pace, spittle flying from his mouth as he rants sotto voce. I strain to hear what he is saying, but it is, for the moment, incoherent. Riding the tide of anger, I slowly lower my muffin, followed closely by my cup, which makes the unfortunate mistake of clinking against the saucer as I set it down.  
  
Severus freezes. So do I. As if seeing me for the first time, he strides over and seats himself next to me. "The old fool has done it again." he says simply.  
  
Looking upward, I fervently hope this won't turn into an argument. "What has he done?"  
  
"Completely disregarded the information and warnings I am placing in front of him, because they go against his plan." He spits out.  
  
Not having a proper response to this cryptic answer, I wait for Severus to calm himself a tad more. He does, visibly, and draws a deep breath before continuing. "You are to go back."  
  
"Go back?" I ask stupidly. "Where?"  
  
"Into the clutches of that megalomaniac. You are to march right back into hell, Bena. Your uncle is sacrificing you, after he so nearly lost you once."  
  
"Oh." I reply.  
  
"Oh?!" Severus cries. "That is what you have to say?! Albus is sending you back to him!"  
  
I nod. I am not surprised, except by the apparent timing. I choose my next words carefully, not wishing to cause any further veins to pop out on my husband's forehead. "I knew I would have to go back. Severus, you know the prophecy. I cannot escape it. Albus knows that. You think this isn't difficult for him? You think he enjoys—"  
  
But I am interrupted, "-He manipulated you into fulfilling the prophecy. Bena was not the name your parents picked out for you. You have told me that yourself. He is using you, as he uses me, and Potter, and everyone who could serve some small purpose in his great plan."  
  
I am surprised he mentioned Potter. I am well aware of the thin line Albus is treading with the boy, but have never mentioned the similarities between Severus and Harry. "Severus, please calm down. I know my uncle is not above reproach. Indeed, some of what he has done is deplorable. But, he has the best intentions-"  
  
For the second time I am cut off. "Best intentions?! Oh, Bena, I thought you would be above accepting his actions simply because he means well. Can you not see-"  
  
I cut him off. "To the best of my knowledge, Voldemort considers purging the muggles and muggle-borns as being good intentioned. After all, it was a weak muggle who left him in an orphanage all those years ago. His intentions are to rid the Wizarding world of those who add nothing valuable to it. To him, they are the best intentions. You accepted them."  
  
Severus is stung by my words, I know. "Yes," he admits, flinging the word into the arena of our argument. "Yes, I accepted his intentions because at the time I believed and agreed with them. I still agree somewhat with the idea, though not with the way the plan is being carried out."  
  
W both fall into silence. Finally, Severus speaks, "You will defend him to the death, won't you?"  
  
"Wouldn't you?"  
  
"Yes. I have marched into hell many times for him. And I will continue to do so, as many times as he asks it of me, because he is great wizard, Bena. I know that. And I know why you must do what he asks. I love you, though, and that complicates matters. I don't want to lose you again, not so soon." He finishes morosely. I slide next to him and grasp both his hands in mine.  
  
"No one said it would be soon that I will be lost. This is going to be a long war, Severus. But back to Tom Riddle I must go. And I will go alone. He and I have much to sort through. I will win, Severus. He is nothing before me. You will see. I simply need some time to collect my strength." I kiss his forehead and feel him relax.  
  
A knock is heard on the door. Rising, Severus opens it, letting a sigh loose in the process. Remus is at the door. Severus allows him entrance, scowling when he sees the smile present on my face.  
  
"And how is the invalid this morning?" he asks cheerfully. I pat the empty spot next to me on the sofa, the space Severus has just been occupying, and answer.  
  
"Better than I think is normally allowed for someone supposed to be dead." Remus joins me on the sofa, while Severus sulks over to the armchair where he had thrown the book when he first entered. He curls up in the chair and begins reading, attempting to ignore us.  
  
This will not do. "Will you take me for a walk, Remus?" I ask boldly. I see Severus' spine tense. Remus senses the palpable tension in the room and accepts. I shoot a grateful smile in his direction. We exit the room and soon find ourselves walking towards the lake.  
  
"How is he?" Remus asks.  
  
I cock my head in surprise. "I thought all your questions would be about me, Remus."  
  
He smiles. "I thought so, too. But, I have known Severus for almost thirty years, and I have never seen him as he was yesterday. I'm not talking about on the steps. Seeing him weep over you did not surprise me. It was afterwards, when Poppy and Albus had you in the hospital wing and wouldn't let anyone near you for the first hour. He wouldn't stop pacing, he kept muttering about it being his fault, he threw up twice is disgust at himself and what he had caused. I was frightened for him."  
  
I motion to Remus to join me on a rock facing the lake. The giant squid is lolling about, the mid-morning sun causing the water to dance with light. "He is fine." I say carefully.  
  
Remus nods. "He will always be 'fine'. He never allows himself to anything but. This has jarred him, Bena. I know you have been through a tremendous amount, but Severus has been through more. Be aware of that over the next few days, won't you?"  
  
I look at my old friend and see the wrinkles of worry are creased deeply. He is genuinely concerned for Severus. He notices my look and gives a dry chuckle.  
  
"I know. My concern for Severus is a bit odd, just understand that I have lost most my friends and a fair number of my classmates because of one wizard. The few that remain are quite dear to me, and that includes Severus. Take care of him, Bena. Merlin knows he needs someone to put his needs first."  
  
With this simple request, we relapse into silence. I place my head on Remus' shoulder and close my eyes, feeling the weight of his charge upon me.  
  
==============  
  
A/N: Well, here's an update, but again, I can't promise anything more for a while. I worked 88.75 hours last week, and am currently on day 34 in a row of working, which doesn't leave much time and/or energy for creativity. If you'll stick with me though, I promise there will be more to read. Thanks! 


	30. Chapter 30

Chapter 30:  
  
Walking me back to the castle, Remus deposits me on my doorstep. When I enter, Severus is still in the chair where I left him. He pretends to take no notice of my entrance, and it is not until I pull the book from his grasp that he raises his eyes to mine.  
  
"Is it difficult, do you find, to read upside down? Or have you found that Latin simply reads better that way?" I ask, unwilling to let him falsely pout.  
  
He takes the book back from me, a sneer on his face and does not answer. Sighing loudly, I sit down on the sofa and stare at him. He does not react. I continue to stare. After ten minutes I can take it no longer.  
  
"Why do you not trust me with Remus?" I burst out. "Are not my proclamations of faithfulness and love enough for you?"  
  
Slowly extricating himself from the chair, he turns to face me, lowering the book to the table. "I do trust you. What I do not trust is the look of hunger in the werewolf's eyes when he looks at you. I am a jealous man, Bena. I do not take well to sharing my things with others."  
  
This admission was said in complete seriousness. I gulp. "Remus knows I will never go back to him."  
  
Severus considers this and continues, "While I do believe that to be true, there is, most likely, a part of him that can clearly see a future where I am dead, and he is able to usurp my place. Werewolves are not known for their kindness."  
  
"His name is Remus!" I cry. "Why can you not give him the decency of using his first name?"  
  
"He shows me no decency by his continued coveting of my wife." Severus spits out.  
  
"Leave it, Severus. You told me I was not to feel guilty of my indiscretion. Do not then lord it over Remus. He did not know he was dallying with a married woman. Albus is right," I say, unfairly pulling my uncle into this argument, "you have become so blinded by your schoolboy fights that you fail to grow as an adult."  
  
Severus is silent for a moment. He stands up, collecting the book from the table. "Then I shall not persist in making you wallow in my presence any longer. Be able to go with me to see the Dark Lord tonight, but until then, you are your own woman." He swings wide the door and slams it quite convincingly. I imagine him stalking the corridors, looking for the few scant students here over break. I shake the image from my head and head off for Albus' office.  
  
Upon arriving, I hear voices through the door. Not caring what I could be interrupting, I stride purposely forward. Everyone in the damn castle knows we're related anyhow, I remind myself.  
  
Minerva is standing behind Albus, who is seated at his desk. In the two chairs facing him I discern the heads of Miss Granger and Mr. Weasley. They all turn to face me as the wooden door swings shut behind me. I nod sheepishly at them. Albus smiles.  
  
"We were finishing here, my dear, if you would care to wait?" he moves his right hand a little and a chair transfigures out of the globe that had been just to my left. Minerva shakes her head slightly. The young Gryffindors open their eyes wide in amazement as the casual magic. I sit, and notice Albus place a silencing bubble around the four of them.  
  
In the meantime, I sit, and notice Phineas has joined Headmaster Stymwyck in the portrait just off my left elbow. "And is married life full of sugar and bliss, Bena?" he coos.  
  
"As much as ever being in your presence, Phineas." I coo directly back. Headmaster Stymwyck laughs lowly.  
  
"There is not need to insult me. You must have known living with Severus wouldn't be easy. For Hades sake, he hardly ever showers-just take a look at his hair!"  
  
"He does shower, you know. Quite regularly. I have joined him, on occasion." Phineas responds by placing his fingers in his ears. Stymwyck chuckles again. I find myself warming to Headmaster Stymwyck.  
  
Shaking my head at Phineas, I turn my attention back to the foursome. The students have risen now, and are solemnly shaking hands with both Minerva and Albus. Albus lifts the bubble and as they walk by, both nod at me. Minverva is less anxious to leave, but she does exit, leaving the us alone.  
  
Albus motions me to sit, but I decline. He steeples his fingers together, waiting for me to begin my tirade. This is another tradition my uncle and I have. I always came to him when I was upset. Occassionally, I would even apparate or floo over for an evening after I had been sent to the States, simply to rant and rave in his presence. It helped me to think.  
  
And begin I do. I rant about Remus, Severus, about my still being alive. I continue on about Voldemort, and the Plan Albus has for us all. I rave about being sent back, about the unfairness of all this, about Albus' use of Harry Potter as a weapon, about his use of me as a weapon. There is hardly a topic I do not cover as I pace the worn wood floors of the headmaster's office. Finally, I have exhausted myself.  
  
Albus rises from his seat and comes to me. He envelopes me in a hug. But rather than have me sit down and ring for hot cocoa as is tradition, he takes my hand, leading out the door and down the hallway. We continue down the stairwell and down to the Main Hall. Fearing he is leading me back to Severus, whom I am not ready to face, I tense.  
  
Instead, we pass through the front doors and continue down the lawn to the front gates. We continue to make our way to Hogsmeade, never pausing, and never a word passing from my uncle's lips.  
  
We pass by the warm exterior of the Three Broomsticks, filled with all sorts of patrons. The facade of Honeydukes also passes by, the streets growing less populated. I am completely bewildered by Albus' actions.  
  
Soon enough, he halts. Our robes swish to a halt as we stand in front of a very dingy, very dirty looking pub. The outside holds none of the warmth that exudes from the Three Broomsticks. Questioning my uncle's choice of locale for a pint, I follow him inside.  
  
Once inside I question his choice even further. The tables clearly haven't been washed down in years. My feet are sticking the floor, which, I originally thought was covered with a sort of sawdust, and the glass that the bartender is wiping looks dirtier than when he began.  
  
The bartender.....I pause. I cock my head to the side. That nose looks familiar. That beard looks familiar. Those eyes. Mine widen as I lock gazes with him. His name on my lips, I do not here Albus mutter a silencing charm.  
  
--------------------  
  
Author's Notes:  
  
Surprise! I got Saturday off (which I'm suppose to feel grateful for, but to be honest, I feel I more than earned) So, while waiting for my husband to get back from band practice, and it being a perfect time to write (there's a thunderstorm), I thought I'd update the fic. Enjoy. 


	31. Chapter 31

I bring a hand to my throat, wondering where my voice has gone. I cough, but no sound, not even of phlegm, escapes. I glance quickly at Albus, whose eyes are twinkling merrily. I look anxiously back to the bartender.  
  
He nods to his compatriot behind the bar and exits through the curtain in the back. Albus pulls me silently after him. Casting a non-perturbance charm on the curtain once we are through, my uncle turns to me, releasing my voice.  
  
I fall into my grandfather's arms, where he has turned to watch our entrance. I smother myself against his beard, stinking on high of chewing tobacco and stale beer. Our arms go around one another and we embrace. An uncharacteristically huge smile is playing on my lips.  
  
After a few moments, Aberforth backs me up. I stand still as he roves his eyes over me. Finally, his appraisal is finished. "You're too thin." he says simply.  
  
I give a short bark of laughter. The first thing my grandfather says to me in nearly twenty years is a very grandmotherly thing to say. "You smell awful." I inform him.  
  
He looks down at his apron, examining the strained and streak piece of cloth. He absently runs his hands on the bottom right corner. "It's not so bad. In any case, the clientele gets nervous if I look overly presentable."  
  
I smirk at him. "Albus said you were back at Hogwarts." he says, nodding to his brother. Albus, I notice, is the embodiment of suppressed joy. "With Severus." my grandfather adds with a very obvious note of disapproval.  
  
I steel myself against the comment, and choke down the immediate anger that rushes into my cheeks. "Yes." I say simply.  
  
He looks at me carefully, as if choosing his next few words cautiously. When he does speak, his eyes are downcast. "I didn't come to your wedding because I didn't approve of the boy. . But," he says, lifting his eyes to mine, "I do approve of the man he has become. Even if it did take years of convincing from Albus."  
  
I know from his gruff tone that the admission is a difficult one for him. I swallow and smile small. "Come here, little one. Your grandfather has missed you terribly." he says, pulling me in to yet another hug. The stench truly is intolerable. I back up for a brief moment, pulling my wand from my sleeve.  
  
"Scourgify!" I say forcefully. Instantly, Aberforth's clothes lighten three shades, his beard whitens and the smell disappears. The resemblance between the two brothers intensifies. Aberforth gestures us over to three shorter beer barrels surrounding a makeshift table. We sit as he pours us all a mug of frothy beer.  
  
As we sit, Albus fills in his brother of the goings on up at the castle. Most of it Grandfather already seems to know, however he raises his eyebrows almost off his forehead when Albus relates the story of my death. He clenches my hand tightly in his, visibly shaking. As Albus finishes his tale, he pulls me close again, closing his eyes as he kisses my forehead.  
  
"You are behaving recklessly again, brother." Aberforth scolds. Though the tone is quiet he is close to breaking. There is intense energy flowing just beneath the surface. I shift my gaze quickly between them. I had not wanted to be the cause for an argument.  
  
Albus flicks his hand carelessly. "It is nothing, Aberforth." he says simply. Grandfather releases my hand and stands. He begins to pace.  
  
"Nothing, is it Albus?" he says. "Nothing?" he repeats. "Your entire life you have been obsessed with affecting the future. You have thought nothing of giving the lives of those you claim to love for the Cause and the furthering of the Plan. I was expendable, Bena here is expendable, Severus certainly is; I even believe that you would sacrifice the boy for the Plan, Albus, and you love him dearly. You love all of us. Being loved by you is a dangerous gift."  
  
I have shrunk into myself, my eyes downcast. This is unpleasant. There are several reasons the Dumbledores do not get together very often. We have a tendency to fight amongst ourselves. It is a proudly accepted trait that to be a Dumbledore one must be headstrong, charismatic, and forceful. Currently, Aberforth is headstrong, I am making no attempt to be charismatic, and Albus is beginning to be forceful.  
  
Grandfather stops in his paces to glare at his brother. Albus stands to meet his gaze. The both seem to swell themselves, much like walruses fighting for dominance. The backroom fills with a breeze, the candles flicker. Magical energy is crackling through the room. Oh dear.  
  
They begin to circle one another. Damn. Gathering my strength, I stand and place one hand on either of their chests. Separated physically from looking at one another, my rather large head blocking their view, and the moment broken, they both shrink back down into the gentle and sweet old wizards the world knows them to be.  
  
I do not meeting either of one of them in the eye. Eventually, they both sit down, each grabbing their mug and sipping mutely. I join them, take a large swig, wipe my hand on my mouth and stay silent. Looking grudgingly at me, Grandfather extends his hand across the table. Albus, after a tense moment, grasps it. Immediately, the level of light in the room raises again to normal levels.  
  
The two brother look at one another again and commence chuckling. I roll my eyes. They have always done this. They have always fought with one another. The main difference today is that I stopped them before the spells flew. I remember quite vividly during the summer between my second and third years at school, walking in to my uncle's office at Hogwarts only to find a purple striped octopus with six tentacles and two bear claws sitting a meter away from a hedgehog blowing bubblegum and wearing socks. I remember, on that occasion, sitting down, pulling the octopus onto my lap and petting it. I knew the hedgehog was my uncle by the socks and was unwilling to provide it with sympathy. Minerva fortunately came in at that moment and set them right. Then, the two of us proceeded to scold them both. They had looked guilty for a moment, then started laughing, much as they are now. Though, this time, the stakes are much higher.  
  
We slip in to easy conversation and talk through the rest of the afternoon, the near-fight forgotten. My grandfather reaches over absently throughout the hours to pet my hand, or run his fingers through my hair, as if physically proving to himself I am indeed present. Too soon, Albus shuffles me and we walk back to the castle as dusk is falling.  
  
A light snow begins to fall as climb the hill. "He's missed you." Albus says unnecessarily.  
  
"And I him." I respond.  
  
"Do you understand why I brought you there today?" he questions.  
  
I bring my right hand up to pull back my hood and turn to look at him, "To show me there is always someone else being affected by my actions. I understand that very clearly now, thank you, uncle."  
  
"I also thought you might simply like to see him."  
  
"Yes, I know. Thank you for that."  
  
The snow crunches under our feet as we continue up to the stone steps. A figure is silhouetted in the doorway. Minerva. As we pull close, Albus lifts his face to her.  
  
"The Minister is here, Albus. He says it is urgent." she informs him curtly.  
  
"I am sure it is, Minerva. My child," he says, turning to me, "the Order is assembling in two hours time. You will be able to join us?"  
  
I nod and walk past the two of them. I must steel myself for the nights activities. First, to face the den of lions that is the Order of the Phoenix. Then, the pit of snakes that are the Death Eaters. An interesting series of events planned. Sighing, I enter my rooms to prepare. 


	32. Chapter 32

Chapter 32:  
  
I enter our still deserted rooms and change my robes. I feel the need to be impressive. But, I consider, I will also need to be adaptable. I doubt there will be time between gatherings to change. I thrust my hand into the racks of robes and pull out one of deep purple. Feeling it matches brilliantly with the royal mood I am in, I quickly don it and head to the mirror. My hair is in shambles. Having never been one for the womanly arts, I shoot a few charms in the direction of the top of my head. It wobbles precariously, but stays. Calling it good, I make for the front door.  
  
Severus enters as my hand in on the knob. I stop and pull back. He coolly nods in my direction. I step further back into the room, allowing him access. He strides by into the bedroom. A few moments later, he emerges, in fresh robes, still black, and clutching a satchel under one arm. From the corner of it, I see a flash of white, his mask. He, too, is prepared for the evening.  
  
I notice his eyes upon me as a faint flush creeps its way up my throat. He shakes his head. My eyes widen, wondering where he could have found fault, when he withdraws his wand and shoots three charms at my head. I feel my hair rearrange itself. Once it has stopped moving, he approaches me, Accio- ing a mirror from the nightstand. He shows me the improved hairstyle. I nod my approval as he offers his arm. Staring in wonder at him, I take it and we exit together.  
  
"I am sorry, Severus." I apologize. Tonight is a night we must be reconciled. I am practically quaking in my boots at the thought of the Order. Funny. I am not nervous about again facing Voldemort.  
  
Severus makes a harsh sound in his throat. "There is no need to apologize. I was being childish. You were quite correct to call me on it. Are you ready for this evening?"  
  
"Is that possible?" I question.  
  
He smiles. "Never entirely."  
  
"I visited Grandfather today." I inform him, anxious to fill the quiet. He nods.  
  
"He does not like me." He says simply.  
  
"He is learning." Severus's laugh is a cold one. "No, truly, he is. He did not like you, that is true, but he is learning to like the man you have become." I press.  
  
Severus turns his head sideways to look at me. "He said that? Hmm. That is rather interesting." He stays quiet for the rest of the walk to the front door. Albus is there waiting for us. He nods curtly, noticing immediately my arm tucked in to my husband's.  
  
"Let us away." He says simply. We move towards the front gate, where Minerva meets us.  
  
"What did the Minister want, Albus?" she asks as way of greeting.  
  
My uncle shakes his head. "Nothing of importance, Minerva. It was a matter easily settled. Now, I shall see you at headquarters." He says, disparating.  
  
Severus looks to me to confirm what I had heard-that the matter was of great importance indeed, but Albus does not wish to reveal it. Interesting. With another quick look to one another, we disaparate and reappear in a small green lawn across the street from the headquarters for the Order of the Phoenix.  
  
Ushering me inside, Severus takes my outer cloak and hangs it on a hook. Bringing a finger to his lips for me to be silent, we make our way to the basement kitchen, where sounds of laughter and discussion greet our ears. Upon entering, I notice every eye is upon me. A few moments awkward silence is quickly dispersed when Albus enters, followed quickly by Minerva. Albus motions for everyone to take a seat. He sits down in a chair at the end of the table.  
  
"My friends, there is much to discuss this evening, but first, I wish to acknowledge a new member of our ranks. Bena Hummel." He motions to me. I feel twenty pairs of eye bore into me, most unfriendly.  
  
"My pardons, headmaster, but who exactly is Bena Hummel?" comes the voice of a tall, handsome-looking young wizard, most likely a Weasley, to judge from his hair.  
  
"Bena is an old friend. I know her grandfather very well. She has been in the Wizarding States these past eighteen years, working for the Congress. She has also been monitoring certain activities, unofficially, of course, for me." None of them accept this as a final answer.  
  
Another wizard, this one with white hair, speaks up. "How do we know she is trustworthy?"  
  
"I will vouch for her." Says Severus from behind a curtain of black hair.  
  
This statement does not seem to inspire confidence. Alastor Moody puts voice to this concern. "Your word doesn't mean much, Snape." He growls.  
  
"I also will vouch for her." Comes Remus' voice.  
  
Severus' jaw clenches tight. I move my gaze around the table, silently imploring the members of the Order to trust me. Moving their eyes between Severus and Remus, they all, after a few minutes, reluctantly give their approval.  
  
Albus claps his hands together, as though this were the perfect treat. "Then, let us get to business. There is much to discuss." The order settles down into the routine of strategy planning. No one pays me much mind. I listen intently, but keep darting my eyes around the room. Moody is watching me closely. Remus occasionally risks a glance in my direction and Severus watches him intently.  
  
The meeting passes quickly. A number of rather brilliant strategies are formulated. Were they to ever be put into action, I have no doubt the Death Eaters would be left stunned. Unfortunately, more often than not, the job of the Order is to react, adapt, and overcome, with little time to present an offensive line.  
  
After two hours, the Order meeting is called to a close. No one has directly said a word to me the entire evening. I can see in their eyes they do not like or trust my presence. I know I can do nothing about that except to let it sit for the time being.  
  
Soon enough, there are only a handful of us left in the kitchen, Molly Weasley being among them. "Don't let them get you down, dear." She says, pressing a mug of hot spiced cider into my hands. I nod in appreciation. "They'll come around. They all do."  
  
I nod again, as Remus approaches. Severus is locked in deep discussion with Minerva and Albus. I cannot see the harm in talking to a fellow Order member, so I greet him enthusiastically.  
  
"Where were you today? I checked all over the castle." He asks, running a hand through his too-gray hair. The next full moon will be here in five days time. I know from experience that he dreads each one. I put a comforting hand on his.  
  
Molly notices it and purses her lips but says nothing. I pull my hand away quickly. Remus looks hurt. I whisper low, "I am sorry, Remus, but I must watch myself."  
  
He gives a small, dry laugh. "So then you are staying with your husband?"  
  
"Indeed." I say. He also purses his lips.  
  
"Very well. I shall keep my distance to true this time." The look of heartbreak on his face hurts me. I want to comfort him, but it is no longer my place. Molly comes back over to us, though she has thankfully missed the exchange. So far, only Minerva and Remus know from the Order. I have the feeling Severus wishes to keep it that way for as long as possible.  
  
I do not. "Molly." I begin. "How long have you and Arthur been married?" she cocks her head at the non-sequitor, but answers promptly.  
  
"Twenty-five years this May." She says proudly. "And you, dear, are you married?"  
  
"Oh yes," I answer. Severus and I just passed our eighteen year anniversary. The look of shock on her face is priceless. Oh, I really must do this more often.  
  
By now, however, Severus has noticed what I am up to. Grabbing my forearm, he makes our excuses to the group and pulls me bodily to the front door.  
  
"It was not your place to say, Bena." He says angrily.  
  
"Sod off, Severus." I bark.  
  
He is about to say more, but takes in my face and realizes I meant no harm. He pulls me in for a chaste kiss and says quietly, "Now for the main event. Hold on to your hats." With a pop we disappear from the square.  
  
------ 


	33. Chapter 33

Chapter 33:  
  
As we arrive in a dense thicket, overgrown with brambles, I wish I had given more heed to Severus' warning. Reaching a hand up, I retrieve my hat from its temporary lodging place in the upper branches of a particularly wild rose bush. Tearing myself free from the thorns, I clumsily approach the spot twenty meters away where Severus had placed himself, impatiently tapping his boot against the ground.  
  
"If you had bothered to help it wouldn't have taken me so long," I grumble, flicking aside his proffered hand as we reach an incline in the terrain. A few more steps and I find myself regretting this refusal. Determined not to show my foolish anger, though, I trudge on in silence, as we gain altitude, until we reach the apex of the hill.  
  
The sight takes my breath away. The moon is almost full, shining over the valley below. Everything is bathed in the pale, quiet light. About halfway down the hill, I can see smoke rising above a fire. I cannot see a house nor cottage nor shepard's hut anywhere. I give a few quick glances around.  
  
"The Moor." I breathe out, giving the land we about to enter the reverence it deserves. The moors in Dartmoor are an entity unto themselves. Barren by day to the untrained eye, there are a wealth of flora and fauna. There is something eternally eerie and erethral about the land here.  
  
Severus touches me lightly on the shoulder to signal he is moving ahead. He, I know, also reveres the moor. That should not be surprising. It can quite unrelenting in its solemnity and sorrow. It suits Severus, as no other area quite could, not even the dungeons.  
  
I follow reluctantly, wishing I could stay and drink in the moonlight, rather than experiencing the gathering. As we make our way towards the circle, Severus removes the white mask from underneath his cloak. I feel a shiver pass through my spine as he slips on the emotionless mask. As we approach, a hole opens to allow us passage. Severus tucks my arm in his and crosses the center confidently. In four quick strides, we take a place in the inner ring of those gathered. I do not see my lord anywhere. Lucius, however, makes himself known almost immediately.  
  
"Dearest Bena, pleasure to see you again, alive." He stresses the last word. I glance downward and grasp Severus' hand. I bite back the response on my lips and simply nod me head.  
  
Lucius inclines his head, "What, no barb? No insult? Tut, tut, Bena. Death has mellowed you."  
  
He would have said more, but the heavy breathing that signals the arrival of Peter Pettigrew and Lord Voldemort can be heard throughout the circle. There, groveling next to the monstrosity of a wizard so many call 'lord' is the even more pathetic excuse for a wizard. I had been fortunate enough thus far not to spend any time in the rat's presence.  
  
I admit, that although I had no strong feelings of warmth towards neither James nor Lily Potter whilst at they were at school, I have always found their fate to be most unjust. That feeling has only intensified since meeting their ill-fated progeny.  
  
The rodent-like movements of Pettigrew nauseate me after only watching for a few moments. Soon enough, he fidgets his way over to me. Severus takes a deliberate step back. Malfoy follows suit and I am left unprotected. Pettigrew guides me to a stool that has been placed at the left hand of Lord Voldemort. Masking the grimace on my face, I elegantly lower myself onto it. Voldemort claps his hands, drawing the attention of all those gathered.  
  
"My friends, we are united tonight is the presence of a miracle. A muggle miracle." He said softly, stressing the last two words. Soft chuckles go up among the crowd. He lifts himself from the chair and struts around the circle.  
  
"It appears love conquers all. Even death." The hairs on the back of my neck are at full attention. This can go nowhere good. I look back to the spot where Severus is. His body is fully tense, his right hand grasping the handle of his wand. If it comes to it, he told me to disapparate. He would deal with the consequences.  
  
"Yes. Love." Says Voldemort lazily. "Something I apparently know nothing about, but there it is; they say it saved Harry Potter. And now it has saved you, dear Bena," he says, turning quickly to face me. "And commendable though that is, I fear there is an unpleasant lessons to be learned in all this. The lesson," he says, leaning down to my face, hissing warm breath upon me, "is that my orders need to be carried out to the letter the first time I give them. Crucio!"  
  
I brace myself for the jolt of pain, but it does not come. Instead, a scream is heard to my right. Severus. My eyes pop open. My husband is on the ground, writhing in pain. After the initial cry that was more surprise than pain, Severus clenches his jaw shut for the remained of the torture. I attempt to run to him, but Pettigrew places his silver hand on my shoulder, forcibly keeping me in a seated position.  
  
After another minute longer, Severus is released. He picks himself up slowly from the ground, panting heavily. Voldemort chuckles. Around the circle, the Death Eaters shift uneasily.  
  
"My dear friends," he addresses them again. "Eighteen years ago I instructed the then-young Severus to kill his wife as a way to show his loyalty to me. Bena here was rather outspoken against me, and I thought that although the idea of the boy being less morose than normal in her presence, the influence she might have gained over him was too great a risk. He went with the intent of ending her life that night, of that I have no doubt."  
  
He is enjoying this, I note dryly. Severus has remained on the ground, resting on his backside, arms around his knees, listening to the story. He does not look at me.  
  
"However, she managed to escape and the Old Fool" again he capitalizes the reference to my uncle, "hid her. I never managed to find her. Until she walked willingly into my grasp a week ago. And now, now, dear friends, we see her alive. Not having escaped death once, but twice, because of the love that exists between her and her husband.  
  
"Now, I am sure many of you would like to point out that our Severus had nothing to do with the first escape from death. You may be correct," he is pacing around the circle, drawing their attention most effectively. I had thought about attempting an escape, but a quick nod from Severus cancelled that idea. "but, I like to think that the bond of marriage alerted her, however unintentional from the new groom, to the danger that was fast approaching. And so now, twice TWICE she has escaped death. And twice, TWICE Severus has been ordered to end her life."  
  
I glance up. Severus failed to mention a second death order hanging over my head. I look imploringly at him. Not once muscle in his face twitches. I hang my head. "I am offering Severus one final chance," Voldemort crackles.  
  
"In front of all of you, I offer him to the chance to make good on his order.  
  
"Severus, stand up."  
  
He does.  
  
"Severus, point your wand at your wife."  
  
He does.  
  
"Severus, destroy her." 


	34. Chapter 34

Chapter 34:  
  
In the few seconds I have, I search my brain. There, there it is.   
  
"What do you want, Tom?" I call out clearly, focusing on the wizard behind my husband. Severus looks surprised, but keeps his wand raised.  
  
Voldemort positively glows at my question. "Good. She caught on."  
  
My breathing is still fast. It had been a long shot, but Voldemort wanted to see the glory of the Dumbledores. And the arrogance. Calling him Tom made me reveal that I find myself superior to him. He is rubbing his scaly hands together, wondering where to begin. Severus is still standing in front of me, wand still raised, looking bewildered. I nod minutely at him, hopefully communicating that I have things well under control.  
  
"I do not have all evening, Tom," I drawl, wishing to draw his attention back to me. I see Lucius shift. This must be driving him mad, seeing me like this. "If there is something you wish to discuss, let us do it openly."  
  
Pettigrew is still wheezing at my side, silver hand on my shoulder. I pull my wand from my left sleeve and whisper a spell at him. Immediately, he drops to the ground in agony-a very weak form on the cruciatus.   
  
I stand, stretching my shoulders. Severus backs into the circle next to Lucius, unsure of my next move. Truth to told, I am unsure of my next move; I am working purely on instinct. I keep my wand revealed and approach Voldemort.  
  
He hisses as I come closer. I draw myself up and stare defiantly into his red eyes. "You do not believe in the inferiority of mud bloods, do you Bena?" he asks.  
  
I give a small chuckle. "No."   
  
"You do not believe in the superiority of purebloods."   
  
"No."  
  
"You do not believe muggles are weak and of no use to us."  
  
"No."  
  
Murmurs shoot up from the circle. Neither of us pay them any attention, as we being to circle on another.   
  
"I do however, believe that some witches are more powerful than others." I say slowly, allowing him to take in the full meaning. As the light of comprehension dawns on him, I shoot a ricochet immobulus charm at Lucius, MacNair, Avery and Pettigrew. The four of them, who had been the first to react, all stop, frozen to the ground. I whisper softly again and the rest of the circle is momentarily petrified.   
  
My eyes have not left Voldemort. He claps and laughs. "Very well done indeed. But these are mere parlor games." He waves his hand around the circle--all are released. The fearsome four pick themselves off the ground and rejoin the ring of Death Eaters.  
  
"Well, Bena. Say what you have to say." he goads.   
  
I shake my head. "I will not rise to the bait, Tom." I say, still circling him. "If you wish something of me, perhaps you ought to try asking for it."  
  
He considers this a moment, but says nothing. I am not sure I can keep this anger up for much longer. "Out with it, Tom. What do you want?"  
  
He smiles wide.   
  
"You."  
  
"Me?" I respond stupidly.  
  
"I want your loyalty, Bena, in a way that you have never given to the Old Fool. I want your undying loyalty and service. I appreciate you and the powers you posses, far more than your uncle," he spit's the word forth, "ever has, or ever will."  
  
Despite myself, I am entranced by the words. I nod my head to show I am listening. He continues.  
  
"You are powerful. That is apparent to everyone here, I would wager. You are brilliant. You are, with one minor exception," he looks over to Severus, "able to set yourself above acting on impulse and emotion."  
  
"Flattery, Tom, will get you nowhere."   
  
A soft chuckle. "It is not flattery, Bena. It is the truth. Did you not just say you believe some witches are more powerful than others? I know you are more powerful than any of my Death Eaters." There is stirring in the ring of followers.   
  
"So what if I am?" I challenge.  
  
"So everything." he replies. "You have been denied who you are your entire life. You are the heir of the Dumbledores, a wizarding family respected around the globe. Yet, your entire life, you have been shunted to the side, unnecessary. A burden. A liability." he stresses the final word.  
  
I feel my blood boil. I have long felt myself to be all those things, but never before has anyone said them to my face. I close my eyes and take a few shallow breaths.   
  
"I would not deny you this, Bena." he says. I can hear him approach. I do not open my eyes. He must be mere inches form my face, for I can once again feel his breath on my cheek.   
  
"I want you to use your power. You could make them quake. You could make them writhe. It is time the world sees what power you posses."   
  
There is a battle raging inside. I see the vision of Severus and myself, living as we please in a home all our own. I see myself going back to the States, all alone, I see myself living at Hogwarts for the remainder of my days. A dozen other possibilities play themselves out on the inside of my eyelids. Knowing which one I wish to choose, I open my eyes carefully.  
  
They meet glowing red eyes. I am scared, and I know my face shows it, but my decision is made.  
  
"I will help you, Tom. Let them all suffer the consequences. Albus be damned."   
  
---------------  
  
A/N: Whoo hoo--she's on a roll! Work slowed down, so updates will be more frequent. I'm having fun with this again. I'll be updating again later this week, I'm sure and I'll probably update the other story (Sorceress) as well. Take care. Ta. 


	35. Chapter 35

Chapter 35:  
  
Tom does not make me take the mark. It would be difficult to conceal against my uncle. He keeps me well after the Death Eaters had departed, Severus included, using Legimens to determine my legitimacy. As my feet hit the stone steps of Hogwarts, I imagine Severus and Albus will be waiting for me on the other side of the threshold. I know Severus will have informed him of the night's events.  
  
Very well. I brace myself and swing wide the doors.  
  
No one is there.  
  
Peering carefully into every crevice of the entryway, I am alone.  
  
Tucking my hair behind both ears, I raise my wand cautiously and continue forward. The entire length of the trip down to the dungeons I meet no one; I hear nothing. Curious.  
  
Opening the door to my rooms, I am once again greeted by nothing. Upon closer inspection, there is a piece of parchment on the table. In the firelight, I read,  
  
Bena-  
  
I am sure you have your own reasons and motivations for choosing as you did this evening. Know only that I have not informed Albus. I have been called away for a few days. Enjoy the solitude. The students are fast approaching.  
  
Faithfully yours,  
  
S.A. Snape  
  
I turn the letter over in my hands several times, willing it to reveal more. Nothing. Folding it in to fourths, I shove it unceremoniously into an inner pocket and sit down on the couch. That Severus is unsure of my motives is unsettling. I sit, staring at the fire until I lose track of time.  
  
It has not been my intention to mislead those close to me. I think it is merely the instinct of self-preservation that I acted upon tonight. I had no under-lying intention of malice in agreeing to what I did. I have been told, and I have seen it often, that parents will gladly give their own lives for that of their children. Harry Potter is living proof of this. I have seldom been more thankful than this moment that Severus and I never had the chance to procreate. I would be disappointed, firstly, that the poor child's parents were such vile creatures, but even more, it would have meant my death, or that of my husband this evening.  
  
I would much prefer to be selfish. Severus I know can take care of himself. I was left to fend for myself tonight, as I have been for most of my life. Albus does not know about my agreement, I remind myself. Do I tell him? The knowledge that my poor abused brain could not take much more invasion at this point, I opt out of visiting.  
  
Instead, I begin to pace the cold floor of my rooms. I do think of them as mine, actually our, rooms. The bookshelves Severus cleared for me and now filled with my books. I run a thumb over the familiar spines, straightening up to look over the not unimpressive collection of my husband. He has the obligatory potions manuals and volumes.  
  
Though not necessarily his first love, Severus flung himself passionately into potions, once he discovered he had a knack for it. He has several articles published. He was particularly instrumental in the creation and refinement of the Wolfsbane. I have often wondered what drew him to that potion. Although a crude form of the potion existed when Remus was at school, the side effects far out-weighed any benefits. In the years Remus was in the States, including his time with me, the potion made leaps and bounds due to exorbitant funding from the private sector both in Britain and the States. The result was the wolfsbane as it is known today. Severus was one of the brewers heavily involved in Britain.  
  
Remus' face floats into my mind. It will be full moon in three nights. I know he dreads each one, always fearing the damage he could do those whom he loves. I choke down the sob forcing its way through my chest. It is a cruel twist of fate that the two men I was given to love are so opposite.  
  
Remus is everything soft, gentle and kind. He is exceedingly patient and warm. Watching him interact with the children at Hogwarts has been gratifying. It is his calling. He has the temperament of an old soul, made older by the sheer maturity with which he has been forced to act most his life. Thinking of him brings a smile to my face. He tries so desperately to make up for the horribleness of his being a werewolf. He is indeed a tame werewolf. His only fault is that he has never rejoiced in the raw strength and energy he possesses when in his wolf form. He has never fully realized his power.  
  
Severus, on the other hand, has spent most his life attempting to attain power. He started near the bottom and has strived since he was young to better himself. And while that is an admirable trait, Severus was raised without morals. He was taught to fend for himself and damn the others. And, since it was all he ever knew, he took it to heart. He is a cold, calculating adult. Not incapable of love and softness, but unwilling. He was taught that love and kindness and the like were weaknesses to be exploited. And exploited them he has. He can be heartless, striking down the fragile shell of teenaged witches with one offhand comment. He could cast the killing curse and feel only pleasure at doing his master's will. He is a hard, brittle man.  
  
He is indeed brittle. Easily broken if one only knows where to strike. I have the knowledge, and have chipped away pieces on occasion, but I have never thought about breaking him fully. Albus has crossed the line even further than me. But neither of us has completely crossed over. And I do not intend to do so now.  
  
Pulling a small rune from the same inner pocket that houses the parchment from Severus, I rub the well-worn rock between my fingers. It is inscribed with Berkano, the runic symbol for a love affair. Remus gave it to me years ago, days after we first met. Nodding to myself, I continue to move the rock about my fingers and take off for the lake.  
  
I arrive sooner than expected. Looking about me, I see no one. Good. I take the stone out and toss it twice in the air before pulling my left arm back. In one supple wrist movement, the stone is released from my hand and goes skipping across the surface of the lake. After seven skips, it sinks below the surface.  
  
That chapter of my life has ended. I breathe a sigh of relief, knowing my decision to be final. I stare at the lake a few moments longer, the earliest glints of light beginning to hit.  
  
Severus may not be a man to inflame longing, desire, and lasting loyalty in most that he meets, but, so many years ago, with one appraising look he managed to ensnare me heart and soul. I took a vow eighteen years ago to be his, and to that vow I hold true.  
  
Fingering the ring on my left hand I nod again and begin the trek back to the castle. 


	36. Chapter 36

Chapter 36:  
  
Once back in the castle, I find I am not tired, despite not having got any sleep. I instead opt for an early constitutional through some of the less popular areas of Hogwarts. Making my way up to the Astronomy tower, I pause in the doorway.  
  
There, nestled a window seat next to the outer entrance, are Miss Granger and Mister Weasley. I smile at the sight and tiptoe past them and step out onto the parapet. The sun is just rising, brilliant pinks, oranges, and yellows spilling across the surface of the lake.  
  
The giant squid is gliding back and forth, the long tentacles breaking the surface. Occassionally one of the tentacles gets too close to a flock of birds, forcing them into the air above the water towards the forest. A thestral soars above the tops of the trees. A short moment later, a second one joins it. I lean my cheek against the cool stone of the parapet. The stairway leading up to the top of the tower is just to my right.  
  
Climbing the stairs, I am surprised to see Remus sitting, facing the sunrise, his legs dangling over the edge. I had thought myself silent in my approach and am surprised when Remus addresses me.  
  
"You threw it into the lake." He says tonelessly.  
  
"Yes." I do not question how he could have known what I threw, but it is obvious from here that I would have been clearly visible from the lake's edge.  
  
He nods at my statement. "Very well." He swings his legs back over and face me. "What are you doing up so early? I rather thought you would have had a late night and would be abed with Severus."  
  
There is a hint of malice, masked quite well by defeat in his comment. I move to sit next to him on the tower edge. "I have not yet gone to bed. Severus was called away by the time I returned this morning. I could not sleep."  
  
"Why didn't you return together?" he asks.  
  
"My special services were required by Voldemort. It was nothing," I assure him before he can ask. "But when I returned to Hogwarts very early this morning, there was a note from Severus saying he had been called away."  
  
"Where?" Remus asks.  
  
"I have no idea."  
  
"What are you doing up here?" he questions.  
  
I shrug. "Again, I have no idea. I simply followed my feet. Shall we go down to breakfast.?" I invite.  
  
"Do you trust me?" he asks, turning his palms out to face me. The gesture is so very pathetic, that had I not just rid myself of all emotion for him, I would have been greatly swayed to gather him into my arms.  
  
As it is, I nod and move down the stairs. Forgetting to recast the silencing charm on the hinges of the door, it gives a loud creak as Remus and I enter. Miss Granger and Mister Weasley sit up straight, eyes bleary, searching the room. It takes a moment, but they both focus on us, looking frightened.  
  
"Good morning, Hermione, Ron." Remus smiles disarmingly. They open their eyes wider but do not open their mouths.  
  
"Come, come, you two, Remus and I are on our way down to breakfast. Will you join us?" I say heartily.  
  
They quickly look at one another. Miss Granger finds her voice first. "Thank you, Professor, but I rather think Ron and I should be getting back to the Gryffindor dormitories. Thank you again for the invitation." They awkwardly disentangle themselves from the window and sheepishly move out of the room, Remus and I following their movements with amusement plain on our face.  
  
Following them out the door, we part ways at the base of the stairs. Remus and I continue our way to the Great Hall and are greeted enthusiastically by Hagrid as we approach the head table.  
  
"Good morning', you two" he booms. "Nice ter see you both up and about this early. Can I han' you anythin'?"  
  
I shake my head politely and take Severus' normal spot next to my uncle. He is currently deeply engrossed in conversation with Minerva. He absently reaches over and pats my hand. Remus meanwhile, takes a seat at the far end of the table, between Pomona and Poppy. They barrage him with questions, presumably about his arrival with me, because he continually throws glances in my direction and assumes a very apologetic posture.  
  
I crunch quietly on my bacon, wishing I could talk to Severus. Eventually, Albus turns his attention to me. "I want to hear all about your evening, my dear. After breakfast, would you be so kind as to accompany me to my office?" I nod.  
  
The rest of the meal is spent in relative quiet. No on asks where Severus is, including me. Afterwards, I follow Albus up to his office. He motions me to the chair in front of his desk. Fawkes immediately flies down from his perch to rest lightly on my shoulder. I reach up to pat him. He makes for the left sleeve of my robes, pulling it back. I cock my head in puzzlement, until I see my uncle staring pointedly at the unblemished patch of skim.  
  
"Albus." I protest.  
  
He holds up a hand to quiet me. "It is Fawkes' doing. I was merely interested in the results." Happy with what he has found, Fawkes leaves my shoulder and returns to his post.  
  
"Now, my dear, Severus filled me in on most of the evening's activities, but he had to leave before he finished. He seemed unclear as to why you were asked to stay later."  
  
Steeling my mind against even the most subtle of penetrations, I recite the story I have concocted in my head. Not knowing exactly what Severus has told him, I keep to a general recitation of events. I gloss over the confrontation with Voldemort, telling my uncle only that Tom is interested in harnessing the power of the Dumbeldores.  
  
Albus sits and listens, knowing full well I am keeping something from him. He does not press, and I do not offer it up. After an hour, we consider ourselves up-to-speed on things and I bid him adieu and head on my way, my tiredness finally hitting me.  
  
-----  
  
A/N Hope you're all enjoying the more than regular updates. I'll keep them coming. I have this story planned all the way to end (no worries—we're still a ways from there) Review! Love it? Hate it? Let me know. 


	37. Chapter 37

Chapter 37:  
  
Almost the same instant my head hits the pillow, I am asleep. Hours later, I am awakened by a soft tapping on my forehead. Opening one eye cautiously, I see the same house elf, Dobby, standing beside the bed.  
  
"Yes, Dobby?" I ask groggily.  
  
"Harry Potter asked Dobby if he knew where Mrs. Snape was. Dobby said he would find Mrs. Snape for Harry Potter." The elf says.  
  
I sit upright. "Is Harry all right, Dobby?" I ask, more frantic than I had meant to.  
  
"Oh, yes, Mrs. Snape." Dobby answers. "Dobby did not wish to worry Mrs. Snape. Harry Potter was only curious."  
  
Raising a hand to my chest, I feel my heartbeat out of control. Taking a few deep breaths, I smile small at Dobby. "Please tell Mr. Potter I will come find him in an hour. There are a few things I need to take care of before then. Thank you, Dobby."  
  
Dobby bows low and disappears from the room. I raise myself up from the bed, looking around the room. Wedding-day Severus and myself wave to me from the far wall. There is sunlight streaming in from the small window. I get up and walk to the bathroom.  
  
Stepping in to the bath, I lower myself into lavendar-scented water, tempured perfectly. I stay in the bath for twenty minutes, washing accumulated grime from underneath my fingernails and scalp. Finally feeling clean, I emerge freshly scrubbed.  
  
"That's better, dear." The mirror says warmly. I merely nod in agreement and step back into the bedroom. The students arrive this evening, with classes commencing tomorrow morning. Knowing I should do something to prepare for their coming, I dress quickly and head to my classroom.  
  
Standing in the doorway, I catch my breath. The cavernous room is empty except for furniture. Placing my worn travel bag on the nearest desk, I open it up and begin extracting items from it.  
  
I place a palm-sized replica of a sasquatch between two of the windows. Across the room from it, I set three figurines, a banshee, a mummy, and a bogeyman, on the floor. I continue placing objects around the room, on shelves, and on the wall. When my bag in finally empty, I wave my wand around the room. Instantly everything grows to full-size. Nodding in satisfaction, I stride purposefully towards the office entrance. Throwing wide the wooden door, I survey what is to be my headquarters, a smile on my face.  
  
I place a second bag on the large desk in here. Opening it with a swish of my wand, books fly out, arranging themselves alphabetically on the three shelves. Once they have finished, I fish out a few more items and arrange them on my desk. The last thing I pull from the bag is a picture frame containing a photo of Severus and myself from a night spent in Diagon Alley  
  
We had been strolling in Diagon Alley before taking an unexpected turn into Knockturn Alley. Before long, the denizens of the alley had surrounded us and were accosting us for money. Severus was able to extricate us from the situation. Once back on the well-lit promenade of Diagon Alley, a photographer found us and insisted on taking our photo. Thrilled by my hero, I agreed, pulling a reluctant Severus into a close hug, giving him a kiss on the cheek just as the photographer snapped the photo.  
  
I place the photo in the topmost drawer of my desk, knowing full well the student population of Hogwarts is not ready to accept their surly potions master as a happily married man. Sitting down in the overstuffed armchair at my desk, I sigh contentedly.  
  
My eyes wander over the room, stopping when they reach the doorframe. There, leaning against the door, is Harry Potter.  
  
"Delighted to see you, young Harry!" I exclaim, rising from my chair. "What say you of the décor for the new term?"  
  
He looks back over his shoulder before turning to take in my office. Giving a brief nod, "It'll do."  
  
I stare at him incredulously. I am quite pleased with the overall effect of these rooms. "It will do? It will do? That is all you have to say?"  
  
He gives a small chuckle. "All right. It's quite nice." He amends.  
  
Still unacceptable. "Surely there must be more." I prompt. He gives serious consideration to the rooms once more.  
  
"They are really quite nice. You've had a fine time getting things in order." He says.  
  
Ah. He is bitter at Remus' departure. There is nothing I could have done to the rooms to garner his explicit approval. Very well. "Thank you for the glowing support, Harry. Now, why is it that Dobby awakened me from much-needed rest?"  
  
Harry suddenly becomes shy, shifting his gaze downward, avoiding my eyes. He taps his feet together. "Come. Sit, Harry." I command gently. He does, still avoiding my gaze.  
  
After a few more moments of silence, he looks up. "Is it hard being a Dumbledore?" he asks.  
  
I stare hard at him for a few moments, carefully picking my words. "Yes." I answer finally. "But perhaps not for the reasons you would think. I admit when I was younger I was quite angry with both my grandfather and his brother for making me have a false name. I was furious when I was not allowed to attend Hogwarts, instead having to live in the States. I have heard you are quite a sight when you are angry, Harry." He at least has the decency to look somewhat abashed at this comment, "But I assure you, my tantrums would put yours to shame.  
  
"Being a Dumbledore is, in reality, no more difficult than being a Weasley, or Longbottom, or Malfoy, I have since learned." I continue on.  
  
Harry scrunches his face up in disgust. "Being a Malfoy? How is that difficult?"  
  
"The Malfoys, as any of the old pureblood families, have certain expectations. There are certain ways one is expected to behave, expected to act, expected to marry. The other pureblood families, while perhaps not as fanatic about it, have the same traditions. So it is with the Dumbledores. Uncle Albus has done an excellent job during his life of maintaining the way. My grandfather, on the other hand, was not quite as willing to fulfill his role. I have tried to follow what has been set before me, but it has been difficult." I finish my long-winded speech with an arm gesture meant to signify my acceptance of my fate.  
  
Harry has been watching me attentively for the past few minutes, "But what about Voldemort? Why do you have to meet with him? How is that part of the plan?"  
  
"You truly are not frightened of his name, are you, Harry?" I ask, ignoring the question.  
  
"No. Voldemort murdered my parents. He's a killer. That's all." He said determedly.  
  
I nod, at a loss for words. "I am meeting with Voldemort on my uncle's orders." I lie immediately. "I am gaining his trust slowly."  
  
It is Harry's turn to nod. "Do you think I can beat him?" he asks suddenly.  
  
"Oh yes, Harry. I think you can. But it will not be easy." I answer quite serious.  
  
"What has he told you?" Harry says.  
  
I look curiously at him. "What makes you think he has told me anything?"  
  
"Nothing. I just thought maybe it came up. You've been spending a lot of time with him lately." He says.  
  
"I'm afraid nothing has come up. If it does, I shall pass it along immediately." I assure him.  
  
Harry nods and stands. Apparently our interview has ended. Harry gleaned some information from our conversation that I was not aware of. I am on my guard now. He knows something. Damn.  
  
He leaves and I am left in my office alone, absentmindedly fingering the photo frame. 


	38. Chapter 38

Chapter 38:  
  
I summon afternoon tea to my office, preferring to stay there to organize my lesson plans. Remus thoughtfully left me very detailed instructions as to what progress all his classes had made.  
  
The N.E.W.T.-level students are the most difficult to plan for, so I begin with the first years. They will continue to be easily impressed by various dark creatures and basic myths and legends. This method of teaching will work up through the third years. After that I'm afraid I'll have to use a bit more creativity.  
  
I am sucking on the end of a sugar quill, attempting to look lost in thought when a soft rap is heard on my door. "Come in." I intone.  
  
Minerva enters, robes swishing. She comes to a halt a few feet from my desk. I stand automatically, a sign of respect, and gesture for her to sit. She does, quite elegantly, and fixes me with a stern look.  
  
Capping my real quill, and placing the confectionary creation reluctantly to the side, I turn my attention to her. "What may I help you with, Minerva?"  
  
"Where is Severus?" she asks immediately.  
  
My eyes widen. "I have no idea."  
  
She does not answer, but cocks her head to side in a very cat-like gesture.  
  
"I am being truthful, Minerva. There was a note from Severus for me this morning when I returned. I have no idea of his whereabouts. I assumed you and Albus did." I say.  
  
She stares a moment longer, then shifts in her seat. "Albus said you would know. He's hiding something."  
  
"Obviously." I say, immediately regretting it.  
  
She narrows her eyes and mouth, but continues on. "Did he say when he'd be back?"  
  
"Not precisely. Minerva, why don't you ask Albus again, now that you know he's not telling the truth?" I ask, feeling irritated about my lack of knowledge about my own husband.  
  
"I will." She rises. On her way out the door, she turns and looks at me. "Thank you for choosing him, Bena. Remus has friends to support him. Severus has only you."  
  
She spins and exits. So that is the reason for her visit. Well, even a disguised compliment from Minerva is still a well-earned compliment. Humming lightly to myself, I recommence with lesson plans.  
  
Without my notice, the sun has sunk low, almost dipping below the hills, just visible from my window. I look up only when a soft rap is heard on my door. Raising my eyes, a smile crosses my face before my voice finds myself.  
  
I stand and practically fly across the room to my husband's arms. He allows a short embrace, and then schools his features back to their stern setting. "It is time for dinner. Have you spoken with the headmaster?"  
  
I nod. "Very well. May I escort you downstairs?" he asks, offering me his arm. I now recall why he is so subdued. I have promised myself to the Dark Lord. I am rather surprised at how quickly I forgot. I am about to question him if he occasionally lets slip the mask caused by this forced duplicity when the sound of the students assaults my ears.  
  
"Merlin, Severus! Are they always this noisy?" I curse, bringing my hands up to my ears.  
  
He gently pries them down. "No. High spirits are always at play after students return from holiday, though I can attest they are never quiet enough. I should tell you-all the staff will be meeting in Dumbledore's office after the feast this evening. And the Orders will be meeting after that. It will be a late night."  
  
We part ways three steps before reaching the main doors to the Great Hall. Severus motions for me to walk in alone. He opts for entering through the side door. I watch him thoughtfully, before making my own hopefully quiet entrance.  
  
The hall is filled to bursting with students. Every seat is taken, except for those where people have vacated to greet friends from other houses. Everyone is talking full voice, several calling out 'hullos' across the expanse. I nod to the trio of Gryffindors, who then turn to explain my presence to their housemates. I notice a few glares moments later, but shrug it off.  
  
Following the cues from my uncle and Severus, I take the empty chair next to Hagrid, who greets me enthusiastically. I cannot resist smiling as he takes my mug and fills it to brimming with butterbeer. He immediately launches in to a recount of his day, filled with close calls with his creatures, preparing for the first day of classes.  
  
The noise swells as students finally stop entering the hall. Albus stands up and a great hush fills the hall. Every eye, even the Slytherins are upon him. A few take the moment of silence to look over the teachers' table. They notice me and begin whispering to one another.  
  
Uncle gives a brief speech welcoming them all back, glad to see them after the holidays, especially holidays lived in such dangerous times. He then introduces me.  
  
Explaining I am to replace Professor Lupin meets with an almost equally divided reaction. Many look heartbroken and send nasty looks my way. The other half does not automatically approve, I discern from the cautious looks my way, but the nods do buoy me up a little.  
  
The food appears and we tuck in marvelously. I shall never tire of the rich feasts of Hogwarts. Soon enough, the students are sent in their way and we teachers retire to the headmaster's office. Albus reiterates the threats facing students in this time of war and tells his staff to be as helpful and courteous to me as possible. Most who were not present over the holidays still recognize me. There are a few raised eyebrows, but most are quite warm and welcoming.  
  
As we rise to shuffle out of the office, Albus calls us back. "I'm afraid I forgot to make one final announcement of change. As Professors Snape and Hummel are married, they will, of course, be sharing quarters. While this will be common knowledge among the staff, I think, for reasons obvious, that it should not be widely circulated among the students. Do I make myself clear?"  
  
Minerva, Sybll, Pomona and Poppy all give one another knowing glances. The others stare on in mute horror. Severus and I hang our heads in embarrassment. Firmly, though meekly, I take Severus' proffered arm and exit the office, wishing I had the backbone to leave proud. Ah well. There will be a time for that soon enough. 


	39. Chapter 39

Chapter 39:  
  
"He should not have done that." Severus growls as we reach our rooms. He flings his robes on to the couch. I follow after him, picking them up. He strides in to the bedroom and swings wide the closet door.  
  
He roughly searches for a different set of robes, smaller, less billowy. I calmly walk around behind him, snatch a hanger from the closet and add the robes back to collection. He glares at me.  
  
"Are you not upset?" he demands.  
  
"No. Not upset. Embarrassed, of course. But Albus meant no harm." I say, shutting the closet door now that he has found what he was looking for.  
  
"Meant no harm? It was remarkably unprofessional of him." Severus snipes. "It has always been his policy to leave everyone's personal lives out of Hogwarts."  
  
"And he has, as best he could. But Severus, he was right. As I am here longer, there may very well come a time when a colleague may ask for my opinion and wish to speak to me after hours. They would be directed here, to your rooms." I keep my voice low, as it is not my desire to start an argument. "Besides, he did stress that it should be kept from the students."  
  
"Potter and the lovebirds know." He says.  
  
I smile at the reference. "Yes. And they will not tell." I vouch firmly.  
  
"No?" Severus is not as optimistic as am I.  
  
"No." I parrot cheerfully.  
  
He shoots me an odd look and opens his mouth to say something, but thinks better of it. This will not do. I stride up beside him.  
  
"You cannot do that." I inform him.  
  
"Do what?" he asks, looking down his large nose at me.  
  
"Have something right on the tip of your tongue and then not say it. That's not fair." I pout.  
  
Severus fixes me with one eye, as I move my lower lip out to pout. "Oh, stop." He says.  
  
I smile and back up. He looks at me ruefully.  
  
"You didn't mean it, did you?"  
  
"Mean what?"  
  
"What you told the Dark Lord."  
  
"Say his name, Severus, and he will have less power over you."  
  
"You didn't mean it." He persists.  
  
"Mean what?" I repeat.  
  
"About Albus being damned. About you truly being his. You can't be. I have seen those under his control. I have been one of those completely under his rule. You are not, Bena. I know you are not."  
  
I take a step back. "I am an excellent actress, Severus."  
  
"I am well aware. But you have a difficult time dissimilating in front of me. Admit it, you have no true plans to defeat Albus."  
  
"You do not know me as well as you think you do."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No." I affirm.  
  
He looks thoughtful for a moment, then walks over and harshly pulls up my left sleeve. "You have not yet taken the mark. A loyal follower considers it an honor to be branded. To be so intimately connected to his master. And the Dark Lord knows it."  
  
"Knows what?"  
  
"Knows that no matter your proclamations, no matter your eloquence, you are still, in your heart, a Dumbledore. You cannot deny it, Bena."  
  
I withdraw my arm from his grasp but make no comment. I stare defiantly up in his eyes. His anger fades and he looks at me plaintively.  
  
"We should leave." He says simply. The matter has been dropped. I nod and follow him out the door and out the castle. The grounds are empty as we move along them. Severus had grabbed a filled flagon on our way out the door, for what I do not know.  
  
We arrive at Headquarters minutes before meeting time. Everyone is there, mostly laughing together. I prefer the happy laughter at the Order gatherings to the sinister cackles of the Death Eater meetings. Here, the members are friends. The Death Eaters are merely colleagues in pain.  
  
Uncle calls the meeting together, and fills everyone in on recent developments. I am surprised at how much has been happening without my knowledge. I glance to Severus, whose jaw line is tight. He knew most of this, it seems.  
  
Molly and Arthur Weasley both look pale. Percy, their oldest, is still considered a potential threat to Order. Albus does not think he is under the Imperious, simply blinded by his love for power. And it is that quest that frightens them. They are both risking glances at my husband; I am sure thoughts of Severus' own thirst for power having been the driving force behind his decision to follow Voldemort.  
  
Albus names a list of former students he is wary of. There are members from three of the houses. Gryffindor seems still immune. Severus brings up the topic, and I notice Minerva's nostrils flare. Dumbledore and the other listen to him, especially the noteworthy example of Peter Pettigrew turning traitor, which elicits a reaction from Remus. Dumbledore nods and says that even Gryffindor is not free from the temptation, but that none of his informants seem to point that way. Severus agrees for the moment, but warns again that they must be suspect.  
  
A few moments later, the Order disperses. On our way out the door, Severus thrusts the flagon at Remus, who, startled at the gesture, looks up.  
  
"Thank you, Severus. I had almost forgotten."  
  
Severus sneers, "It is fortunate then, that I did not. It would not do for Dumbeldore's pet werewolf to be wild in a few night's time."  
  
Remus lowers his gaze to the flagon and gives a sad smile. He uncorks the potion and downs it in one go, his features grimacing at the taste. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and gives the flagon back to Severus.  
  
"Thank you." He says simply.  
  
Severus looks at him but only nods. I give Remus a small look as I follow Severus out the door.  
  
"Is it so very difficult for you to be pleasant?" I ask the moment we are outside.  
  
"You know my reasons for being rude to the werewolf."  
  
"I don't mean only Remus. Molly and Arthur are frightened for Percy. All you did tell them how to cope with the loss of their son as a decent human being."  
  
He turns on me. "It is not my job to make others feel good about themselves and their situation. I have been through the underworld and back, Bena. I have seen the lowest depravity of wizardkind and lived to tell about it. I have partaken in the most wicked and vile acts known to us. And yet I am still here. I know the horrors and I am not about to hand hold anyone. Do you understand?"  
  
His speech was completely true. Severus has never been one to sugarcoat anything. That has always been left to Albus.  
  
"You are right, Severus."  
  
He nods. "Let us go home. Tomorrow classes start and you will need your strength." 


	40. Chapter 40

Chapter 40:  
  
Upon entering the classroom, I am astonished to find most my class already assembled. I have the Gryffindors and Ravenclaws first. Harry, the rogue, catches me eye and throws a wink. I struggle to keep my smile hidden as I reach the front of the classroom.  
  
I turn and lean against the desk waiting as the rest of the students filter in. Soon enough, they are all gathered, faces expectantly at me.  
  
I clear my throat. "Put your wands away." I instruct crisply. Several groans greet my ears as I turn away from them to face the blackboard. Pointing my wand at the board, wisps of white smoke shoot out from the end and arrange themselves in to words.  
  
I spell out my name, turning as I finish to notice raised eyebrows from Harry, Miss Granger, and Mister Weasley. I return the look.  
  
"Professor Bena Hummell." I repeat clearly. "I ask you treat me with the respect due a professor as I assure you, you will receive nothing less than the respect due you."  
  
Most of the class nod, I note gladly. I begin to pace the length of the room as I launch in to lecture. "Now, Professor Lupin was kind enough to leave me his notes. Mister Longbottom, name me one identifying mark of a vampire."  
  
Mister Longbottom's eyes widen, but he swallows and answers willingly. "An aversion to sunlight."  
  
"Excellent. Let's try again. Miss Patil?"  
  
The Ravenclaw prefect pipes up immediately. "Elongated canine teeth."  
  
I nod and continue to pace. "Miss Brown?"  
  
"Sallow skin."  
  
"Indeed. Mister Goldstein?" Another Ravenclaw.  
  
"Dresses completely in black."  
  
I say nothing, but continue on. "Miss Granger?"  
  
"Though many presume vampires would not take regular meals, they are able to ingest small amounts on regular food, as a supplement to their diet of blood."  
  
My smile is twitching around both corners of my mouth now. Harry smiles mischievously and nudges Ron. He glances sideways, then gives a cough and raises his hand.  
  
"Mister Potter?"  
  
"They also tend to, because of their dislike of sunlight, stick to cold, damp places. Like dungeons."  
  
He delivers this straight-faced. A few students have caught on to where he is leading and begin to chuckle. I school my features and focus my attention a foot above Harry's eyes, which are twinkling as merrily as ever my uncle's have.  
  
"Mister Weasley?" I ask, "Anything to add?"  
  
Ron looks a little startled, but pipes up immediately. "I'm not sure about this, but I think they have a tendency to move about in giant, billowing robes-like an overgrown bat." The class loses control and bursts in to laughter.  
  
I sternly rap my wand against my desk, but it has little effect. I explode purple sparks from the end. Everyone stops and turns to me.  
  
"That will do." I say simply. They sober themselves down.  
  
"Fun though it may be to speculate about one's teachers, I would ask you not do it during my class." I reprimand sharply. A few of them seem surprised I caught on to the joke. "I have known Professor Snape for years, and I can assure you he is no vampire."  
  
All of them are watching me now, not daring to speak a word.  
  
"Oh, gather round, you lot." I cajole them. "I'm not going to take points."  
  
The rest of the class passes quickly, as does the rest of the day. Before I know it, Severus and I are seated in our quarters, looking thoughtfully across the room at one another over our wine glasses.

----------------------------

A/N: My apologies for the lack of updates. I started a third story that I will begin posting this week. It's written in its entirety. Hopefully, now that it's finished, I can once again devote more time to this and Sorceress. Ta.


	41. Chapter 41

Chapter 41:  
  
"Teach me." Severus urges again.  
  
I sigh and close my eyes.  
  
"Please, Bena." He asks a third time.  
  
I close my book, marking my spot, and set it on a side table. "Very well."  
  
Severus flicks his wand to arrange and table setting for two. We have already eaten, but the house elves provide ample food to get started with. I look at the setting, and then eye the table under the window.  
  
Waving my wand, the tray floats over to it. I motion Severus to join me. He does, looking cautious. As I approach the table I watch his every movement, in order to critique him when the time comes.  
  
"No, Severus." I scold. He jumps back, eyes searching for his error. I gesture to me seat.  
  
"A gentleman pulls out a lady's chair." I instruct. He grumbles and crosses behind me, scraping the chair out. I sit down and he pushes the chair in. He returns to his side and seats himself.  
  
I survey the table. "We will not need the tray." I say, swishing it away. "Here, let me set this properly." I flick my wand and the table setting arranges itself, cutlery in its assigned positions, and all plates set where they need to be.  
  
"Take note, Severus. There is a definite pattern to how one chooses cutlery for different courses and how to use each one." He is chewing the inside of his cheek. That is not a good side, especially considering we haven't begun in earnest on tonight's lesson.  
  
"I know how to do dinner service." He says irritably. "I had to sit through enough dinners at the Malfoy's and with Dumbledore to know how to eat."  
  
"Then demonstrate that to me." I say. I know my tone is more clipped than I should like, but I do not enjoy a reluctant learner. "Which would you use for a first course soup?"  
  
Severus glares at me, but grabs the large bowled soupspoon. "Show me how you would eat." Another glare, but he raises the spoon to his lips.  
  
"No."  
  
"No?"  
  
"No, Severus." I repeat. He places the spoon on the table and looks at me petulantly. I sigh inwardly and begin again.  
  
"Place you napkin in your lap." He does so. I mirror the gesture. "Now, grip the spoon as you would a quill and spoon away from you to gather soup." He does this as well, eyes narrowed. "Now, bring the spoon gently to your lips and sip. Do not slurp."  
  
We practice this a few more times. Feeling he could now carry himself through the soup course, we move on to the pasta course. There are minor revisions to each of the six courses I guide him through that evening. With each one he bites back searing comments.  
  
Finally, over the final course, coffee, he has settled down. "Am I truly that awful?"  
  
I shake my head. "No. As you said, there is no way the Malfoy's would have allowed awfully behavior at the table. You have the generalities. It is the nuances of good manners, which comes from good breeding, that is missing."  
  
Oh dear. That last comment slipped out. I close my eyes against the oncoming bellow, but there is nothing. After a few more moments, I open my eyes. Severus's eyes are bulging, but his breathing is controlled.  
  
"Severus, I am so very sor-"  
  
"No, Bena. You are correct. My parents did not come from money, as do you. I had no one to teach me fine manners."  
  
"Severus, that is not what I meant."  
  
"I know, Bena. Being born to either money or a title or a well-known name means that manners are pound in to you from the day you are born. But you did not have that."  
  
I shake my head. "No, you are right. My parents shunned that, but my grandfather and his brother did not. They took over my care almost immediately and made certain I was schooled in all the proper ways. Severus, please let me apologize."  
  
"No, my sweet. I asked for your help and you gave it. I need to develop thicker skin."  
  
I give a short bark of laughter. "Severus Snape, too sensitive? Poppycock."  
  
He flashes a rare smile and rises from his seat. He crosses to me and pulls out my chair, leaving a hand out to help me rise. He offers his arm and escorts me to the sofa. With his wand, he floats our coffee over to us.  
  
"This is better." He comments.  
  
"Much." I agree.  
  
"Now, school me in the finer points of after-dinner conversation."  
  
"There are generally regarded three topics to avoid at dinner parties at all costs. Politics, politics, and money. However, that is for a general invitation dinner party. At a typical party at the Malfoy's, for instance, politics is what unites all the guests, and, as the majority of the guests are Death Eaters, it would be a safe topic, for all are most likely in agreement. However, finances and money are still off-limits."  
  
Severus nods. "And what are the three safest topics of conversation?"  
  
"That depends greatly on the sex of the person you are conversing with." I inform him. "Witches to witches generally discuss relationships, children, and scandalous gossip. Wizards chatting with wizards discuss scandalous gossip, work, and leisure activities. Wizards talking to witches will stick to leisure activities and scandalous gossip."  
  
"I notice a trend."  
  
"Oh yes, gossip is always a favorite, though they will all deny it. I think that is enough for tonight, Severus." I say.  
  
He nods. "All is quiet on the war front." He says. "The Dark Lord is in planning, and Albus does not require us tonight. Let us to bed."  
  
Arm in arm, we enter the bedroom, falling asleep in each other's arms. 


	42. Chapter 42

Chapter 42:  
  
The next day was nowhere near as thrilling as my first foray into teaching. The majority of my classes were very well behaved, save for the seventh year Slytherins, but then, I was able to pass over much of the problem by dropping a few well placed hints about my knowing their parents. Several of them caught on and by the end of class they were no matter.  
  
That evening, long after supper had finished, the Order of the Phoenix met. Uncle filled everyone in on new findings, of which there were few. Bill Weasley filled us in on goings on at Gringotts, of which there were a few items of interest, and Arthur Weasley and Kingsley Shacklebolt completed the Minstry report.  
  
Well after midnight I was still there, along with Molly and Arthur, who had stayed after to clean up. I handed another mug to Molly and launched into conversation.  
  
"Do you worry about Harry?"  
  
Molly looked up, startled, and answered, "Of course. Harry is another one of our boys, has been since the first day he started Hogwarts. I worry about him as much as I do my own boys."  
  
I nod. "But, I mean, being the boy-who-lived, do you worry more for him?"  
  
"Possibly." She replies with caution. Arthur is at the other end of the room. Molly dries her hands on her apron and rakes an eye over me. "Why do you ask?"  
  
"Curiousity. Harry has no parents to look after him the way your children do. Neither did I. I was fortunate enough to have Albus take me in, same as he has Harry."  
  
This comment riles Molly. "Albus Dumbledore may think he has Harry's best interests at heart, but he is far too manipulative to understand how much he hurts the boy."  
  
I look interestedly at Molly. Arthur has noticed her tone and approaches, but Molly is not to be stopped. "I do not like to speak ill of the Headmaster, for I do greatly respect him. But, in regards to Harry Potter, he has no idea what he is doing."  
  
"Molly." Arthur chimes in softly. Molly flashes her eyes to her husband's. Apparently this conversation has taken place between the two of them before.  
  
"Arthur, the woman asked." Molly says. "But Dumbledore is not alone in his mistreatment of Harry. Your husband," she says, with obvious relish, "takes his role far too seriously."  
  
I nod. "Unfortunately, as much as Harry's life always hangs in the balance, so does Severus'. Severus treads the line daily between life and death. One false step will be his last."  
  
It obviously pains Molly to hear Severus' fate laid out so plain before her. Arthur nods his head in agreement. "Yes, I think Severus sacrifices more than any of us shall ever know."  
  
"That does not excuse his abomninable treatment of Harry." Molly chides.  
  
"No, but it does give it reason." Says Arthur.  
  
"Harry seems quite capable of taking care of himself." I break in.  
  
"He is still a boy. A boy who has faced more than most of us ever will, I admit, but he is still a boy." Molly asserts.  
  
I nod my agreement. "Is that why you look after him?"  
  
"We look after him because no one else will. At least, they won't look after him because he's a boy. They'll look after him because he's the boy who lived. Not because he's Harry, but because he's Harry Potter." Arthur says.  
  
I smile. "Thank you, Arthur. Harry has grown very dear to my heart in the past few days. I am pleased to hear he has someone as wonderful as you both to look after him."  
  
Molly eyes me but says nothing.  
  
"I thank you also for the help and compassion you have shown Severus. I know he has appeared on your doorstep bruised and battered from his meetings with Voldemort. I am eternally grateful he has someone who sees past the façade and cares for him tenderly."  
  
Molly grudgingly accepts my thank you. Arthur looked at me curiously. "Where have you been all these years, that you were unable to look after Severus?"  
  
"I was banished to the States years ago by my benefactor. I took all my schooling there, and it was made clear to me that there I should remain if I wanted to keep up the quality of life I had been accustomed to enjoying. Albus was able to find me interesting work, so I stayed." I explain.  
  
They both nod. "Are you planning on looking out for Harry, then?' Molly calls after me.  
  
I turn to face them both. "That had been one of the general ideas, but I'm afraid recent events must be taken in to consideration. I am no more fit to care for Harry than Severus. Thank you both." I exit noiselessly from the kitchen.  
  
Making sure to tiptoe around the hag in the hall I approach the front door, chuckling at my juvenile joke around Mistress Black. The front door pulls open from my outstretched hand.  
  
"Severus." I say, startled.  
  
"What have you been doing?" he demands. "I've been waiting for you."  
  
Taken aback, I respond. "Talking with the Weasleys."  
  
"About what?" he says suspiciously.  
  
"Harry." I say simply. It is apparently enough for him, for he changes subjects.  
  
"How are your classes going?" he says, falling in to step beside me. Our feet crunch the snow as 12 Grimmauld Place fades from our background.  
  
I turn to look at him. Both our hoods are up, so I am only able to discern his nose peaking out from the hood, along with clouds of breath.  
  
"Fine." I answer. "And yours?"  
  
"The same." Crunch, crunch.  
  
"Where are we going?" I ask.  
  
"Just follow." Severus says simply. I do, for another quarter of an hour. Finally, he stops. I move my head from side to side. My hood falls back. I let a mirthful filled laugh escape my lips.  
  
"You kissed me here." I say brightly.  
  
"You remember." He says softly.  
  
"Of course. I had told you I wanted nothing more than to be kissed in a lightly falling snow and you brought me here, where no one would recognize us and you kissed me." I clap my hands together. It had been to awkward and wonderful. I turn on him. His mouth is stern, but his eyes are dancing.  
  
I approach and capture his mouth with mine. As I pull away I feel something cold hit my eyelashes. Looking up, I notice it is again snowing. Laughter echoes through the empty square where we are.  
  
"Bena." Severus says, drawing my attention to him. "There is still much to be done. Come." He offers his arm, which I gratefully accept and we disapparate, my spirit considerably lightened by our short jaunt. 


	43. Chapter 43

Chapter 43:

The much to be done consists of a Death Eater meeting. Fortunately, it is a general gathering and I am able to disappear in to the background. I keep my ears well perked behind my hood, though.

There are rumblings. The Dark Lord's ego took quite a bruising at Hogwarts, and though he publicly proclaims it a victory, listening between the lines shows he is rather unsettled. I hang to the back, listening to Lucius and the others offer their advice on how best to next proceed. Severus, though included in the inner circle, does not say much.

Finally we are dismissed. Severus nods in my direction and disapparates. I make motions to do the same, but, once he is out of sight, take steps towards Voldemort.

"Bena?" his voice snakes out. I feign surprise, knowing full well I had not hidden my step while approaching him from behind.

"My lord." I say, sweeping in front of him and bowing low.

"No, no, my pet, do not bow so low." He says, placing a finger under my chin. I swallow quickly the bile that has risen in my throat. I do not appreciate his nickname for me.

Lucius is still there, eyeing us both curiously. He knows Severus has gone. "Perhaps you missed your husband leaving, Bena. You ought join him." He drawls.

"No, Lucius. It is you who should leave us." Voldemort says. I raise my eyebrows, thankful that for once, the lord of overstatement caught my understatement. Lucius puffs himself up, but does not argue the point. Clever boy.

We both watch him go. I move my gaze around, hoping to find the clearing empty. It is, save for the two of us. I muster my courage, emboldened by Molly and Arthur's proclamations and launch in to it.

"My lord," I say reverently, lowering my head, "There are movements you may be unaware of. I feel it to be my duty to inform you of these."

He motions with his hand that I should fall into step beside him, and we begin walking in to the woods. "What movements?"

I choose my words carefully. "I know you are aware of the Order of the Phoenix, and my husband's position in it." I wait for the minute nod of his head before continuing. "But I wonder if you know of the placement of another spy in your midst."

He stops fully, both our robes slowly follow the gesture.

I wait as a breeze flits through the trees. A few more seconds pass. We begin to walk again.

"Does Severus know?"

"I am uncertain. I know he suspects."

"And you?"

"Oh, I am certain of this person's traitorous acts towards you, my Lord."

We stop again. He turns to face me.

"Who is it?"

I swallow, bracing myself for this. I finger my wand and being to speak. "It is me, my Lord."

I feel his startlingly hot breath as he exhales fully in my face. My eyes flutter, but otherwise I hold my composure.

Moments pass.

Awkward moments.

Finally, he speaks. "What proof have you?"

I hold back a laugh. "Proof? I have no physical proof. But I know my heart, and it does not belong to you."

I brace myself again, still fingering my wand. Still no sudden movements from my companion.

"It belongs to the old fool, then."

"No." I am pleased to say.

He takes a moment to process it, but eventually he does understand. "You pledge your allegiance to Severus?"

"Oh yes."

"You are a fool." He says, the scorn evident and harsh in his voice.

"Perhaps. But I am a happy fool, with a free conscience." I reply.

He is still facing me, our faces only a few inches apart. I can still feel his breath on my face. We are both of us contemplating our next move. I move first, preferring to keep some semblance of the upper hand.

I begin walking again. "You are oddly quiet."

"I am unused to being played, Bena."

I allow him to see the small smile on my face. We continue walking. I am amazed at how this is going. I must have truly taken him by surprise.

"I ought to kill you here."

"If you use the Unforgiveables my body will be found. Severus may not be a man of many emotions, but he would be quick to notice my disappearance." I speak confidently on this subject.

He nods. "I could kill you and transfigure your body into something else."

"It would be detectable."

"I could change you into an apple core, then feed you to a woodland creature."

"Yes, you could."

"Bena?"

"Severus?" my husband's voice cuts through the bizarre conversation from behind. I give a sigh of relief. I had expected him two minutes earlier.

I turn. Severus hurries forward. I heave a sigh, which I know Voldemort detects. Severus approaches us, breathless.

"Is something wrong?" he asks, darting his dark eyes between the two of us. I shake my head warmly.

"Only a talk between friends." Severus looks sharply at me. I smile brightly and tell him with my eyes that I am fine. We lapse in to silence.

"Take her home, Severus. Keep her safe." With that he disapparated, leaving the two of us alone.

"Bena?" he asks, turning towards me.

I hook my arm in his. "Nothing, Severus. Come. Take me home. Keep my safe." We disapparate together back to Hogwarts.

--------------------------------------------

A/n: Well, after a too-long delay I've returned. I FOUND A NEW JOB! It gives me nights and weekends (what a novel idea!) I have a few more chapters on this one. I'm in the middle of another Sorceress chapter and I have an entirely new story to publish. Thanks for your patience and enjoy!


	44. Chapter 44

Chapter 44:

The next morning breaks cold, snow falling softly over the castle, blanketing her in white. I awake early. Severus finds me an hour before we are required down in the Great Hall, staring out the window. He presses a mug of hot tea in to my hand, which I accept greatly.

"What happened, Bena?" he asks. Last night I refused to give him any details of my conversation with Voldemort. He is quite persistant.

"What do you mean, Severus?" I ask, using the mug to hide my smile.

Severus exhales irritably. Perhaps I should stop.

"Severus, please."

"Please?"

I close my eyes. "I felt it time to explain to Voldemort that my loyalties are not his." Severus leans against the wall, a tired hand reaching up to run against his temples.

"Whose are they?"

"Yours."

Soft laughter.

"I am serious, Severus."

"Bena, I love you desperately. But I cannot imagine a situation where you would choose me over your uncle. And I cannot fault you for that. Albus is far more inspiring than I am. He is who you should follow." Severus says, his eyes closed, his face pinched.

I take a few moments more to study him, carefully arranging my words. "I know."

He opens one eye and looks at me.

"You are right. Albus is far more important to the world than are you or I. He will actually be remembered years, decades, generations from now. You and I shall fall to the masses and not matter. But that, Severus, is why I choose you. Albus has a thousand strong to call from. You do not."

"I have built myself that small group, Bena. I do not need your sympathy." He says harshly.

"Fine." I spit, angry at him for refusing my gift. I storm out the room, already angry at myself for my overreaction. Damn the man, he has a gift for turning everything and everyone against him. I leave our rooms, determined to find some solace before the day begins.

I am not that fortunate, however. I find a patch of undisturbed snow on a windowsill overlooking the lake and few floors up and west of our rooms. My tea, still gripped firmly in my hand, has cooled, but with a tempering spell begins steaming again. I stare out the window, collecting my thoughts.

I notice it is silent. Too silent. I whirl around. "Harry." I say simply, my voice devoid of any emotion. I am not certain how I feel about his intrusion on my bad mood.

He does not say anything, simply approaches and joins me at the window.

"It's coming."

Baffled, I ask him what.

"The storm."

I look out the window, but the clouds simply look as though the light snow will continue, nothing further. I say as much.

He gives a soft laugh and shakes his head. "Not that. I mean the next battle with Voldemort. It's coming soon."

My eyes widen for a moment. "How do you know."

"I'm sure Dumbledore and Hermione would say it's because I haven't been practicing occlumency hard enough, or that I've gone completely off my rocker, but I feel it in my bones. That was something Uncle Vernon's mother used to say when she'd visit, when I was very young. That she could feel the rain coming in her bones. It made Uncle Vernon very nervous, but he didn't believe you could anything in your bones." He says wistfully.

"I don't know what to say, Harry." I say truthfully.

"There's not much to say, Bena." He says softly. "I know you will protect me when the time comes. I know this isn't the end battle. He has a purpose. I" he hesitates, "I think it's you."

I nod. "It very well could be."

"Why don't you leave?" he asks. Not cruelly, merely a request for information.

"My place is here."

"You mean with Dumbledore?" he asks.

"Perhaps. But I was referring to Severus."

He makes a face, but quickly recovers. "I wondered. Bena, do you think I can do this?"

"Oh, yes, Harry, I do." He looks at me, a brief tear in the corner of his left eye. It is gone before I pull him into my arms for a hug. We stand there for a moment, before a loud thump is heard outside the castle.

"We have to go." He says resolutely at me. I nod silently and follow him down the nearest staircase.


	45. Chapter 45

Chapter 45:

I follow Harry silently down to the main hall. Pandemonium is currently in control. He looks sideways at me. I nod, and we step behind one of the statues at the base of the stairs to weather out the storm of students up the stairs.

A few minutes later we emerge, the hall empty. My eyes stray to the main hall, certain I saw movement. I motion to Harry to follow me. He does so, withdrawing his wand as he falls into step behind me.

I cautiously peer around the edge of the great wooden doors. Severus and Albus are at the teachers' table at the far end. No one else seems to be there. A second castle-thundering boom is felt. Albus looks up, his face forlorn.

He motions us to join him.

"Albus, what is it?" I ask, allowing the worry to fully enter my voice.

He flicks his eyes momentarily to Severus before returning to my face. "Another attack is upon us."

"Obviously." I spit impatiently. Men are always stating the obvious, wasting valuable time.

Albus raises one eyebrow. "I had not anticipated this situation."

"What situation?" I ask, the exasperation evident. Harry is facing me, a look of concern crossing his features.

"It seems Voldemort is after you again."

"Then let him have me."

"No!"

"Severus," I say, turning to my husband, taken off guard by his vehement denial of my willing martyrdom, "this is beyong you and I. You have known that from the beginning. Tom and I must face one another, just as he and Harry have their time."

Severus throws my uncle a helpless glance, silently begging him to intervene. He does not. Instead, he uncharacteristically folds his hands together and says nothing.

Harry is stirred to speaking. "Professor," he begins slowly. All three of us eye him closely, unsure who is addressing.

"Why does Voldemort want you?" he asks.

I smile, pleased he is able to sort through it all and come up with the one important question.

"Because he needs me." Severus and Albus chokes. I turn to them. "It is true, though none of us has said it in so many words. He does not need me in the way you do, Albus, nor you, Severus. But the need is there. It has been there since my birth. I cannot escape that, though we have tried desperately. I must face him."

The three men, for yes, I will include Harry in that grouping, contemplate me silently. In the respite, a third rumble shakes the old castle. I raise my eyebrows, questioning them. One by one they all nod their approval, reluctant though it may be.

"Very well. I have my wand. I need two things from my rooms first, though. Severus, will you accompany me?" There is nothing I need from our rooms, but it is the least embarrassing way for me to allow Severus his goodbye.

We walk, hand in hand, down the hallway. "Why are you doing this?" he asks hoarsely.

"Severus, you were not made to love." I say softly. "You have tried your best, but it is draining you. I need me, I know that. And you are a passionate man, that is obvious. But you are not a lover. Yet, I married you, knowing it. Your passion is of a colder nature. You will survive this, as you have survived everything before it. That is what you are, Severus. A survivor of the highest degree. This is merely the latest test."

Tears are streaming from his eyes, an unusual sight from my husband. We have by now reached the front door of our rooms. I open the door, motioning with my arms that he enter first. He nods and walks through the doorframe. I immediately shut and lock the door with the strongest lock I know.

I hear him turn and begin pounding the door. "Bena!" I hear him yell. Tears begin to fall from my eyes. I did not want to do this to him, but it is the only way I can guarantee I will be free to approach Tom Riddle. I move my hand along the rough wood of the door, as I hear him sob on the other side. I want to pull him close to me, embrace him, but I cannot. With an air of extreme reverence I place a kiss on the door handle, where his hand may touch it next. I slowly retreat down the hallway, back to my uncle and Harry, ready to begin the next seperation.

Albus looks up, his eyes cold and tired. He knows that I have locked Severus away. He raises his hands and takes mine in his when I am in arm length. "Go as you must, my child." He says, his calmness invading every part of my being.

I feel uplifted, and kiss both of his hands. He places his right hand on my cheek, in a very avuncular gesture, and exits the hall, humming to himself. I have never, and never shall understand him. But I bow before his greatness.

That leaves only Harry and me. He eyes me distrustingly.

"Harry." I say simply.

"Why do you have to do this, Bena?"

"You know why."

"You believe your entire life was mapped out for you before you were born?"

I chuckle softly. "Not entirely. But the decisions made by those in charge of me and my future made certain there would be no other outcome."

"That doesn't mean you can't deny it now."

"Harry." I say warningly.

"No. Walk away. There's a back door to this castle, there has to be. You and Snape have the damn secret tunnel, use that. Leave, Bena. Run away. You don't need to do this." He says, waving his arms around.

"Why haven't you done the same, Mister Potter?" I ask calmly.

He stops in his pacing to look at me. "I can't."

"Can't what?" I push.

"I can't leave." He says. "I have to face Voldemort. He chose me to fulfill the prophecy."

"Just as I was chosen to fulfill mine. It is not a weakness, Harry Potter, to follow one's destiny. It is courage. The weakness is to deny who you are. I will not deny it. I am Bena Dumbledore, a force to reckoned with."

Harry stares at me a few moments more, before closing the four foot gap between us, again embracing me. I pet his hair and whispers quiet words in to his ear for a few moments. Finally, he steps back and eyes me warily.

"I suppose you better go then. He's expecting you."


	46. Chapter 46

Chapter 46:  
  
The great doors of the main hall open before me. I have left Harry in the Great Hall with the promise he will not come after me. I do not entirely trust him not to follow through with it, but for the moment I have other vying for my attention.  
  
By the lake a large, black-clad figure is looking. I move my eyes from side to side, but I can detect no other movement. We are alone. I turn a puzzled face in Tom's direction.  
  
The surface of the lake is unimpeachable. It reflects everything in mirror-like perfection. There is no wind rustling the tress of the Forbidden forest, nor any noise emanating from the castle.  
  
That in itself bothers me. I would expect nature to still herself against this evil presence, but to silence Hogwarts during term is a powerful thing. It only serves to strengthen my resolve that what I am headed for is right.  
  
I stop my approach twenty feet from Tom. I square my shoulders and cross my arms. He adopts the same stance, his red eyes flashing dangerously.  
  
"I have come, Tom." I say unnecessarily.  
  
He does not seem to register that I have said anything. I have never, nor do I now, take well to being ignored. I take one very deliberate step forward. His eyes flicker.  
  
"Good morning, Bena." he says.  
  
I raise an eyebrow and nod my head. "Good morning as well."  
  
"I expected you sooner." he drawls. I have no idea how he is able to affect a drawl out of his snake-like mouth, yet somehow he manages.  
  
"My apologies. I was up in one of the towers when you announced your arrival."  
  
"I worried you wouldn't come."  
  
"Oh, Tom, you should not have doubted. I'm hurt by your lack of faith."  
  
"You are rather reckless to openly mock me, Bena." he hisses.  
  
I laugh despite myself. "What more have I to lose? You have called me out to my death."  
  
His eyes narrow. "That is not certain." he says.  
  
"No, you are right." I say soberly. "But, you must allow the thought."  
  
He nods.  
  
"Did you give your fond farewells to those you hold dear?" he sneers.  
  
I nod.  
  
"You must have locked your husband in his rooms. Tell me, how is it that the Old Fool has not yet figured it out that Severus working for me?"  
  
"Are you certain it is not you who are deceived?" I am taking a risk rising to the bait.  
  
"The thought has, of course, crossed my mind, but in his current position, Severus is invaluable to me. Besides, I have looked into his eyes. He cannot deceive me. Though frustrating, it is not his fault Dumbledore chooses to keep things from him."  
  
I give an imperceptible chuckle, thanking all the gods I have heard of that I am as skilled in Legimens as is my husband. We regard one another in silence for awhile.  
  
"Why now, Tom?" I challenge.  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"You didn't have to choose today to challenge me. There is no urgency to my death."  
  
"Every day you have access to Potter and Severus is a day too long." he hisses, a flash of anger escaping. "Your level of influence, combined with your particular heritage make you dangerous to me, Bena."  
  
He takes a step closer. "I ordered your death eighteen years ago, before I knew how vitally important you would become to me. Now that I do know, I wish it even more that Severus had not weakened in his resolve to carry out my orders."  
  
"Severus was not repsonsible for my escape, Tom." I say calmly.  
  
"No?" he says, sounding mildly surprised. "Good. Then we meet on equal ground."  
  
He raises his wand to chest level, fifteen feet away.  
  
I do the same. 


	47. Chapter 47

Chapter 47:

Neither of us breaks the stance. It has been five minutes. My arm is aching from the effort. My wand begins to shake noticeably under the strain.

"Come and get me, Tom." I say in a singsong voice. I begin to slowly circle him, neither of us lowering our wands. He, in turn, beings moving, our bizarre dance visible to all the occupants of the castle.

Except Severus.

An unexpected pang hits me as I remember Severus locked in his rooms. It is only a moment's fault, but Tom rushes in, my defenses down.

Immediately, my mind is filled with images I am not controlling. Tom in replaying long forgotten conversations, arguments, kisses and trysts. Happening upon a particularly steamy one, Tom lets go.

"The werewolf?" he asks viciously.

I glare defiantly at him, but an unable to suppress the shudder that rips through me at the violation.

"How many more where there, Bena? How many other does Severus know about?" he is playing me now, and I find myself distressingly at his mercy.

"There were no others." I choke out, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Tut, tut." he mocks, "Though I suppose one werewolf, and this werewolf in particular, would be worth a handful of other lovers. Severus had seemed rather petulant lately. At least now I know why."

He has gotten to me. I am shaking, my body wracked with guilt. I close my eyes, knowing it leaves me open to another attack.

He bursts through my feeble defenses once again, memories playing on my eyelids. This time he is searching for Harry. This realization triggers my mind as I physically hurtle him from my mind.

When I again open my eyes, I am kneeling, my robes damp from the snow. I am panting heavily, glaring at him. He looks quite smug, the bastard.

"You will let me root around with Severus all I desire, but a brief glimpse of Harry Potter brings you to your senses?" he asks, one thin eyebrow raised.

"Get on with it, Tom." I growl. I have grown weary of this game. He could, if he desired it, to break me now with repeated strikes on my too tattered and frayed mind.

"No, Bena. You and I are equals. It does not do to fight you on your knees."

"We are not equals, Tom." I spit out viciously. Nevertheless, I stand, my body feeling very weak.

He begins walking toward me, a move that leaves me completely off-kilter. I stand there, stupidly. He comes closer, so that if I wished to, I could reach out my arm and touch him.

I am standing, but my body shudders every few moments, dissolving and iota of strength I had hoped to project.

He takes another step closer.

"Do you give up, Bena?" he asks, his warm breath spilling on my cheek.

"No." I say quietly.

"You wish to fight me?"

"I wish to defeat you." I say honestly. "But I will settle for simply banishing you from these grounds."

He chuckles, a mirthless sound.

"Enough talk, Bena. Wand at the ready." He instructs.

I raise my wand again.

"Ladies first." He hisses sarcastically, still only an arm's length away. But rather than fire off a spell, I take the moment to study him.

I do not believe I have ever seen him in such harsh light. His skin is deathly gray at the moment, appearing paler because of the intensity of color from his eyes. His mouth does closely resemble a snake's mouth, hips lips almost non-existence. His skin seems stretched taut across his face, forgiving the lines that have naturally begun to show on his former classmates. It is an ugly face. Even now I cannot summon any pity for the wreck of a wizard in front of me. Contemplating him has brought a surge of anger to me.

Me eyes sparkle as the flame within is relit. He recognizes it as well, a nasty smile appearing on his face.

"Ready, Bena?" he asks, the air fairly quivering in anticipation. I nod.

"Silencio!" I yell.

Surprise floods his eyes, as he is struck mute. It was a very unexpected spell, and very sneaky way to commence our duel.

Unable to fire back at me, he glares, waiting for the spell to wear off. Unlike animals, which remain silenced indefinitely, silencio only works temporarily on wizards. In the meantime I pace around, tracing the path out feet have tramped in the snow.

For a moment my eyes flicker up to Hogwarts, searching the windows. There are indeed hundreds of faces pressed against the glass.

I only removed my eyes from Tom for a second, but it proved to be long enough. Released from his silence, he lashes out with fury.

"Inflagrante!" he screams. I suck, and watch the red spark fly into the woods beyond. It strikes a tree, which bursts into flames.

"Estingo." I say lazily, watching the fire go out immediately. I turn to him. Currently I hold the upper hand, which infuriates him.

I may tell you quite honestly, than an outraged madman is perhaps not the best of company.


	48. Chapter 48

Chapter 48:

"Bena!" he bellows, startling birds from the trees.

"What, Tom?" I am infuriating polite.

"Fight me." He commands.

"I am doing just that."

"No you are not. You are taking the damn high road your uncle is to very fond of. I throw a curse; you deflect it. You are only defensive, not offensive." He growls.

"Then prove to me going on the offensive would be worthwhile."

More sparks explode from hid wand tip.

"Why not just kill me and get it over with, Tom?"

"Because you serve more." He says quietly.

I am stunned. I stare at him, disbelieving what I heard.

"You are not some common muggle, or a mudblood, or even a weak wizard. You are a Dumbledore, Bena. Even I, who despise that name, recognize the power it commands.

I am quite literally speechless.

Fortunately, Tom manages to stay enough in character and takes advantage of the situation.

"Vitrioli!" he shouts.

A stream of viscous green liquid stream forth. I dart out of the way at the last moment, the poison hissing as it lands on a rock behind me.

"Calolio!" I shout. A stream of hot oil streams forth. Tom constructs a shield and deflects the blow easily.

We continue to exchange curses, both of us becoming more daring, though we still allow for the other to take their turn.

Finally, Tom manages to singe the arm of my robe. I glare at him. My anger has been successfully riled.

"Dammit, Tom!" I bellow.

He looks delighted.

We step back to throwing curses, though his are becoming increasingly more lethal. We are constantly circling one another, our wands firing off curse after curse. I land a hit. We continue. Tom lands a hit. We continue.

Suddenly Tom stops, staring directly over my left shoulder. Risking it, I glance. A dark haired figure is descending rapidly from the castle.

"Harry James Potter, get back the castle!" I roar. He stops momentarily, surprised by the vehemence in my voice. I turn my head back to Tom just in time.

"Randale!" Instantly, a shield pops up halfway between Tom and Harry. The stream of red that had left Tom's wand bounces off and is reflected into the woods.

"Dammit, Harry- get out of here!" I command, not taking my eyes from Tom, who has begun to salivate at the sight of his new prey.

"No!" Harry shouts back. We are standing twenty meters apart from one another, which Tom forming the third leg of the triangle another 20 meters from Harry.

"Bena- don't do this!" Harry yells.

I feel my anger rise up. Tom is positively glowing. I shoot two quick spells, which draw his attention away from the shield for a brief moment. I send a more powerful spell his way. It lands straight on – he falls.

Unable to contain my joy, I give out a great whoop. Unfortunately, it draws Harry's head from behind the protection of the shield. Tom notices and fires off a spell, which grazes Harry's right arm. Harry gives a cry of pain and retreats behind the barrier.

"You can't protect him forever, Bena." Tom says, picking himself up from the snow.

"I shall try."

He chuckles. "Bena. Oh, dear Bena. What will happen now?"

"Albus will rescue him and leave you and I to one another."

Tom appears to consider this, though I do not fail to register the three steps taken in Harry's direction.

"Tom." I warn. He looks at me, an expression of schooled innocence upon his face. My attention is momentarily drawn to Harry, who is gesticulating wildly hidden behind the shield. He is pointing to something. Ah.

"Tom." I say again, louder this time. He gives me his full attention.

"Let him go." I say simply.

Tom is speechless.

"Are you mad?"

"No more than you." I answer.

"Then we are in a very bad way."

I allow my smile. When he wishes to display it, Tom has a very biting wit.

"Let him go."

"I cannot."

"Tom."

"Bena."

"Our fighting has come to standstill." I point out. He nods.

"Very well." He nods.

"Crucio!" we both yell. The moment the word is off my lips, Harry takes off at a sprint towards the castle. My spell hits. Tom's does not. By the time Tom's scream has fallen off, Harry is safely within the protection of the castle.

I smile smugly. "You scream like a woman."

Tom scowls and picks himself off the ground for a second time. "That was risky." I nod.

"It does not mean you have won."

"No." I agree.

"Ready, then?"

"Oh, yes."


	49. Chapter 49

Chapter 49: 

Before our fighting can commence, I notice Tom's eyes dart towards the gate. For a moment, my blood freezes.

Hooded figures, at least five of them, are approaching our battlefield.

"Tom." I say in a low voice.

No answer.

"Tom."

"Tom!"

"Bena, please, control your anger..." he trails off, laughing. His Death Eaters are gathered behind him now. I swallow hard. Tom I can handle, but a handful of loyal followers were not in my plan.

My fear is back, and I know he can sense it rolling off of me in waves.

"Frightened, Bena?"

I affix a sneer on my face. "Never of you, Lucius."

He makesamotion as though tospeak again, but Tom raises his hand. "Not now."

"Where are your friends, Bena? Have they forsaken their champion so easily?"

"I am not the champion, Tom." I am rolling my wand between my hands, a gesture of nervousness I have retained from my youth. Wishing I would afford a glance towards the castle, I instead seek to distract one or all of the Death Eaters.

"Did you know he let Potter return to the castle, not five minutes ago."

They all momentarily stop. Tom glares daggers at me. I smirk.

"Nice try, Bena."

"It is no 'try', Lucius."

"Stop it, both of you." Tom commands.

"Master, look!"

All our heads whip to the castle. A small group of black os rapidly approaching our position. My heart swells.

I turn back to Tom, whose face has soured.

"They change nothing."

"I agree."

Albus, Remus, Minerva, Filius, and Vector have all arrived at my side. I will freely admit surprise at the appearance of Vector, appreciated though his presence is. The others I am relieved to have at my back.

"She is still mine." Tom yells, I assume to Albus.

Albus simply nods. Immediately, all five let loose with spells. Two death eaters fall to the ground. Two more stagger to regain their balance.

Tom takes the opportunity to send a flash of light in my direction. I easily dodge it and send my own spell back.

The fighting continues.

Soon enough, the death eaters seem defeated, though I freely admit being only peripherally aware, my attention focused on the ferocity of the attack Tom is unleashing.

"Ah!" I hear Albus say sharply.

It draws my attention for long enough.

"Avada Kedavra!" I hear Tom bellow.


	50. Chapter 50

Epilogue: 

I only hear my heart beating as I burst through the doors on the main hall, not caring what dangers I'm running into.

I saw her fall. There are footsteps behind, voices calling, but I don't care.

I see the dark figures near the woods still fighting.

Dumbledore and others have only now realized what happened.

"Bena!" I scream. Suddenly, strong arms are holding me, keeping me from getting to her.

"Let go!" I yell, hoping whoever is restraining me will understand. I need to get to her.

"Keep him back, Severus!" Dumbledore commands from the battlefield below.

I twist my neck. Snape is holding me. Suddenly, though, he goes limp and falls to the ground. I look at him, but his eyes are focused on the point where Bena had, until recently, been standing.

"Professor?" I whisper.

No answer.

"Professor Snape?" And then, the unthinkable. Tears begin falling from his eyes. I shift my eyes downward, avoiding the unpleasantess of seeing Snape like this. Snape, the git. Snape, the bastard. Snape, maybe wasn't quite as heartless as I'd thought him to be.

"Stay here, Potter." he says hoarsely.

"But, sir, we have to get help her."

He grabs my arm. "We cannot help her, Potter. Don't you understand? She is not like you, she cannot survive the curse."

"She did!" I insist.

"That was a miracle. This has simply fulfilled the story. She was supposed to die today, the sixth day. She knew it, and still went out. Dammit!" Snape swears, still on his knees.

I sit down on the ground beside him.

He is slowly regaining control, his features slipping back into the severe creases I am accustomed to.

Below us, the battle has come to an end. Apparently, the Death Eaters got what they wanted for this time.

"Voldemort is gone." I say softly.

Snape intakes a breath sharply. "Do not say his name."

I stare incredulously. "What? Do you honestly think he has that much power? How can you think that? He's just a murderer whom everyone lets go about his business."

"You do not understand, Potter."

I am willing to argue with him on this point, but the headmaster has arrived.

The two wizards stare at one another. Snape raises himself up and jerks me to my feet.

Dumbledore nods and walks toward the castle. Snape bows his head and follows after him.

I know they expect me to follow, but I can't.

I wait until Snape is walking through the arch of the door, then turn and run back down the hill. No else is left.

Bena's crumpled robes are in front of me. I kneel down to touch her, but feel only air.

"There's no body!" I exclaim to myself.

I move her robes around, finally picking them up, trying to find some explanation.

A small piece of parchment flutters to ground, landing beside her wand.

I pick it up. On it is written:

'Carry on, dear boys. Carry on.'

I look out over the lake and take the note with me up to the castle.

-

FIN

-  
-  
-  
A/N: Whew finally. I admit, I got writers block towards the end. I'm still not entirely happy with it, but, it's finished. And next week I'll post the rest of the Missing Day, which will leave only Sorceress, which I slowly limp along with every few weeks. I am in full force writing my own original fiction. I hope you've enjoyed the story, and I do apologize if I wimped out towards the end, but Bena was scheduled to die from the beginning of the story (in my mind). THanks for reading. Take care.


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